


Disgrace

by TwiceALady



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Adultery, Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Anal Fingering, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Dom/sub, Edging, Erotica, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Foreplay, Masturbation, Mild Humiliation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Pegging, Post-Canon, Romance, Sex Toys, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 115,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceALady/pseuds/TwiceALady
Summary: When Anna’s happily ever after isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, she searches out a solution for her malcontent in the wrong man at the right time, but when Hans becomes the right man at the wrong time, Anna must re-evaluate everything she thought she knew about happy endings. Post-canon AU. Hansanna pairing, erotica-romance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An eternal people pleaser, a source of emotional support and a practised nurturer, Anna is relied on by everyone and never complains, to the point where she’s taken for granted by those who love her without even realizing it. Combined with the historical, societal faux pas Anna’s canon actions caused, this is a post-canon AU that explores the idea of Anna’s coping mechanisms breaking, and what she does to try and fill the void.
> 
> Warnings: NSFW, moderate bdsm, dom Anna/sub Hans, explicit language, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, pegging, oral sex, m/f penetration, fingering, anal play, sex toys, edging, orgasm control, after care, foreplay, mild humiliation, adultery

Anna heaved a sigh. She loved him. She had to. He was her true love. They were destined to be together.

But she did not want to get married standing in the dirt, in a _hole_ while wearing a cape of damp, mouldy smelling moss and a crown of weeds. Not that she got a say in the matter. It was all the trolls with some basic suggestions from Elsa. The bride had little or nothing to do with the arrangements. And little to no say at all about her own wedding.

And as her wedding day loomed near, the restless nights and bad dreams had only gotten worse. She would wake up from a dream gasping for air, the suffocation so real to her that it was hard in those first few moments of waking to remember who she was and where she was, and that everything was fine.

Fine.

She had been telling herself, trying to _convince_ herself that everything was perfect ever since Elsa’s frozen summer had come to an end, but when was she going to truly believe it?

She was supposed to be happy. She had gotten everything she had ever wanted, right? An attentive sister in Elsa, who finally gave Anna that familial attention she’d been craving her whole young life. And in Kristoff, a true love—a magic snowman and a family of trolls had told her so.

 _But_.

Things were not well with her, and had not been well for awhile. Elsa’s coronation, and subsequent frozen summer had changed everything. Anna’s world had been tipped upside down, and then righted again so quickly that the pieces of her life, while right side up, were still a jumbled mess. Sitting across the board, scattered, needing to be reset.

She had thought that once she had broken Elsa’s unfortunate magic upon herself everything would just magically change for the better.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that it hadn’t.

Lingering hurts remained, with frustration and anger following behind. She couldn’t quite seem to express her feelings the way she wanted to. In a way that wouldn’t hurt everyone she loved. And so, despite what should be considered happy notes in her life, a dissonance ran deeply through her, striking her at her very center. Anna had perfected the art of ‘grin and bear it’ years ago, and was now a master at it.

Being with Kristoff, while enjoyable for the most part, was not how Anna had envisioned her true love at all. Her happily ever after. She felt affection for him, yes, but there was a distinct lacking in passion, and she couldn’t help but feel like something very crucial was absent from their courtship.

For Anna, it was more like being in a boat without an oar that had been swept out to sea. A boat that moved only by the ocean’s will and not her own. Like she wasn’t in control of her own fate, her own feelings. Her own _life_.

There was something missing, even now with everything aligned so perfectly. And she felt as though she wasn’t allowed to feel angry, or hurt, or frustrated about any of it. Wasn’t her life perfect now? Hadn’t she gotten everything she had ever wanted?

 _No_.

Anna shivered, trying to push that dark, little thought away.

But she was tired. So tired of playing this pretend.

She was tired of smiling pleasantly, tired of listening to Elsa’s self-deprecating apologies, tired of Kristoff’s incessant cynicism, tired of Olaf and his inability to understand boundaries. Tired of it all.

It was exhausting trying to fit herself into a life she didn’t quite feel she belonged in. And it was horribly concerning to her that she felt this way to begin with. That love was a chore. Something she had to endure because everything was now the way it was supposed to be.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love them all dearly—she did, it was just…well, she just felt so pigeon holed into a life that didn’t feel quite real. Quite like her own. There were so many things expected of her now, so many people’s opinions, wants and needs. She’d barely had any time to herself these days, and when she did, she just wanted to smash things, throw objects and scream until her voice was hoarse and all of these unpleasant feelings she carried left her alone.

She almost missed her life of loneliness and solitude.

Almost.

She needed something that was hers.

Something she didn’t have to share or explain.

Something that let her redefine herself in the events that had shattered her just as surely as it had put her back together again. Something that would give her back an oar.

She rolled her eyes.

And something that wouldn’t be compared to that of Elsa’s.

 _Everything_ these days was Elsa.

Elsa this. Elsa that.

Even Kristoff— _her_ fiancé, _her_ lover, nattered on about Elsa. _Elsa’s ice this. Elsa’s ice that_. _Elsa saved summer_.

It shouldn’t have bothered Anna the way it did. She knew there was nothing behind it, nothing but awe and admiration, but even that was enough to set Anna’s teeth on edge these days.

She’d never known she could be so silently petty, so spiteful.

If she had some sort of outlet…

But nothing since Elsa’s frozen summer had been solely for Anna without Elsa being involved or adored or sympathized. Even going into town or speaking to servants, the talk was always of Elsa. Frankly, it was off putting for Anna, being shoved aside in favour of her sister by people she had known all her life. But it was what it was. Anna was ordinary, Elsa was remarkable.

Elsa was no longer a recluse, and that was a _good_ thing. Anna had gotten her sister back. Arendelle had gotten their ruler back. It just meant that Anna had to adjust to life with Elsa forefront and center. It was the way things had always been, just a little different; there was nothing for Anna without Elsa.

 _That’s not entirely true_.

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

 _Not him_.

 _Think of anyone, anything but him_.

Every time he entered her thoughts, she quickly shoved him out. She wasn’t ready to deal with the barren wasteland Hans’s betrayal had left behind on her heart. He’d left his mark on her, his poison, and she had been forever changed.

The one thing that was hers, had been him.

And in the end, even he wasn’t exactly hers. Her _mistake_ more like.

It was wrong, but overcome with a sudden sense of bitterness, she allowed the thoughts of him to stay this time. Overshadowing everything else.

A new kind of rage scorched through her and she let it, burning everything to ash. Cleansing it all.

Because all her frustration, her hurt, her anger could easily be pushed onto him. Directed at _him_. Whether he was the one to blame for it or not. And in a way, she justified that he was.

She hadn’t seen him in person since the ship he’d been dumped on had returned back to Arendelle with no choice. A rather nasty storm had delayed travel and he’d never been sent back to his homeland as Elsa had intended.

Instead, Hans had been imprisoned in the Arendelle dungeons. God only knew what Elsa had in line for his punishments. It wasn’t that Anna really cared, at least that was what she kept telling herself.

But today, today when she was supposed to be memorizing her lengthy vows, his fate wouldn’t leave her alone. _He_ wouldn’t leave her alone. If she still believed in signs and destiny, this would have been a clear one. The will o’ the wisp to follow into the woods and lead her astray from her perfect, happily ever after.

Perhaps she would speak with Elsa on the matter and pay Hans a visit.

Because in that moment, Anna wanted to face the man who had betrayed her.

Some sick, dark part of her wanted to see his pain, his anguish, his humiliation. Wanted to see the fallen prince at his absolute lowest and revel in it, in hopes of reclaiming a piece of herself that had been lost.

***

“See _him_?” Elsa’s tone matched the perplexed look on her face. “What on earth for?”

Anna bit her lip, trying to think of a good enough excuse to see Hans in the dungeons as though her deep-rooted anger wasn’t a good enough of a reason to give her sister. “I just think it’d be nice to tie up loose ends before my wedding.”

Elsa frowned. “Loose ends? I don’t understand.”

No, Elsa wouldn’t understand. No one did. No one but Anna, and she couldn’t explain it without upsetting everyone, though she tried to. “I just—I need to see him before I marry, to _know_. I know it doesn’t really make sense, but it’s important to me, that’s all.”

“I know what this is.” Elsa smiled, placing her hand on Anna’s shoulder. “It’s pre-wedding jitters, that’s all. No need to go to such extremes. I know what you need—a trip to the sauna, a day just to yourself to relax instead.”

“No,” Anna said, her hands unconsciously balling into fists. That was not what she needed. It wasn’t pre-wedding jitters. This had started before she and Kristoff had ever got engaged. This had been brewing for a long time now, and had reached a boiling point. If Elsa didn’t give this to her, she didn’t know what she’d do. She couldn’t keep masking her rage, her malcontent—

Elsa’s eyes narrowed, her smile fading. “Geez, you don’t have to get so huffy.” She breezed past Anna to her writing desk. A chill of air following her, and Anna instinctively braced herself for her sister’s sudden anger. Elsa grabbed a pen and furiously began scribbling something down on a piece of paper. “It was only a suggestion, but if you don’t want to hear it, fine.”

“It’s not that—” Anna immediately placated, even though Elsa’s wording had not implied that her words were a suggestion at all.

“—No, no, it’s fine. If you want to go to the dungeons instead, it’s fine. You obviously know best when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Anna frowned, catching the sarcasm in Elsa’s voice. “Elsa…”

But Elsa was apparently in no mood for Anna any longer. She finished her note and pushed it towards Anna. “Here, but mark my words: _it’s a bad idea_. You and I both know that. Just as you and I both know you won’t really go down there. _You’ll go to the sauna instead_.”

Wordlessly, Anna took the written permission from Elsa off the desk and left. There was no point in trying to reason with Elsa when she was in one of her moods, especially if it was a defensive one.

“Anna?” Elsa called from the doorway, the hint of apology already there and the heat of her anger cooling. “No good can come from seeing him again, it’ll only open up old wounds.”

She did not give Elsa the satisfaction of seeing her turn around and reconsider. She was tired of placating Elsa. Tired of being the emotional support and keeping Elsa happy. Tired of ignoring her own feelings in favour of reassuring Elsa.

This had not gone the way she had wanted it to, but then things never did these days. Elsa was upset with her for even suggesting it, but at least Anna had gotten what she came for. A letter to the dungeons to see Hans. A letter that would fix her broken life.

She was sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken a few days for Anna to work up the courage to make good use of her sister’s permission slip. She hated it, but it had felt wrong to go against Elsa’s counsel. So wrong that Anna had actually gone to Oaken’s for some time at the sauna.

It hadn’t helped—well, it had helped her pores, but the underlying issues still remained. There was no cure for it. Nothing but the dungeons. Nothing but facing Hans.

She didn’t know what to expect as she stood at the threshold of the staircase leading down to the dungeons. She stood, wavering, hesitant to take that first step and follow it down into something ugly. A world unlike the one she was living in.

And always in the back of her mind was Elsa’s disapproval.

_‘No good can come from seeing him again, it’ll only open old wounds.’_

Anna did not have the heart to tell her sister that those wounds had never closed. Let them all believe she was fine. Peachy. Even if she wanted to say it, Elsa had spiralled off into one of her guilty laments again, spewing out apologies over and over until Anna just nodded, numb to the words.

Elsa may have warned against it, may have disagreed wholeheartedly with Anna’s decision, but she would not deny her. Instead, Elsa would assume that Anna played her role of obedient little sister.

But Anna would not. Not this time.

She _needed_ this. She needed an anchor, a grounding point for all these repugnant feelings she was hiding in herself. And she was convinced she could find what she was looking for in Hans’s torment.

Though Anna had pressed, Elsa did not like to speak of his punishments, of the chains, of the lashes. Elsa knew what went on in the dungeon, some guard dirtying their hands in order to keep hers pristine and pretty.

That wasn’t what Anna wanted. She didn’t want to pretend that everything was fine and just lovely.

She didn’t want to keep her hands clean anymore.

Because there was retribution in her fingers.

And no amount of guards inflicting pain on him could rid her of that until she saw Hans with her own eyes. Maybe hurt him herself. The idea made her fingers itch.

Her foot moved on its own, taking that first step, plunging into the darkened stairwell. She hadn’t told anyone she was doing this. She had gotten permission from Elsa. A letter from the Queen of Arendelle herself, granting Anna what she had asked, yet confident all the same, that Anna wouldn’t go down this path.

 _Wrong_.

Infuriated and needing to prove Elsa wrong, Anna moved faster, almost out of spite, flitting down the stone steps, further and further down. Darker and darker until she had made it to the very bottom of the stairs. There was a dampness to the air with the pungent smell of stale sweat, and wet stone, laced with the coppery scent of blood. The atmosphere instinctively oppressive and grim, making her lungs tighten and stomach roll.

She had never ever been allowed down here before.

Royals did not dirty their hands or thoughts with such places.

“I’m here to see Hans,” she said, standing tall and keeping her words steady as she spoke to the guard at the entrance. The man gave her a quiet once over, stopping when he met her eyes. Wordlessly, the man pulled out his key ring and unlocked the main door. He swung it open for her.

“Follow me. Far end of the hall to the right.”

Still clutching Elsa’s letter in her hand, she nodded, and hurried through the door. She had expected to have to argue, to show she had permission to be here, but the guard knew from whatever he saw in her eyes that she belonged here.

It was that thought that spurred her forward. She _belonged_ here. She had every right to be here, to see him. Her legs felt shaky and uneven as she moved down the hallway. Keeping her back straight and chin high, she denied that she was nervous and wanted to turn tail and run back up those steps. Back into the light and back into her perfect world. Back to pretending everything was _fine_.

Stubbornness prevailed, and before she knew it, she had reached the end of the hall and stood at a large door. The doorway to _him_.

The guard escorting her unlocked the door and again held it open for her to enter.

She gulped.

 _You belong here. No one will tell you to leave_.

“I’m here to see Hans.” Even she was proud of how steady and commanding her voice sounded as she spoke to the new guard on the other side of the door. To his credit, he didn’t even glance up at her guard escort for authorization. She was enough.

“I’ll knock when they’ve got him secured.” Was all the guard said to her before closing the door while the first guard bolted it tight with a scrape that made her grit her teeth. She noted silently that she appeared to be in a sort of hallway with locked doors on both ends. She stared at the door ahead of her, waiting.

Elsa’s warning echoed in her head.

 _No good can come from seeing him again_.

The longer Anna stood there waiting in that narrow, constricting space, the more common sense and apprehension began to sneak back in. Maybe Elsa had been right.

 _Go Back_.

 _No_.

She had to see this through. She _had_ to.

She did not jump when the knock on the door came, splitting the silence and heralding her fate.

“You’re in luck if you’ve come for a show, Princess,” the guard said.

“Why?” She heard herself ask.

“Once a month he gets his lashes. Today’s the day.”

“Oh.”

She followed the man into the room, an audible gasp escaping her lips before she could suppress it. There he was, his arms strung up by the wrists in chains, standing in the middle of the room.

Hans.

He faced the door, and his eyes pierced hers upon arrival. Still the most amazing colour she’d ever seen. _Dreamy_ , she’d once called those eyes. But even a serpent could have dreamy, pretty eyes.

His lips curled in amusement as he took in the sight of her, but he said nothing. Those piercing eyes were enough to tell her everything she needed to know. She had been wrong. She shouldn’t be here. Not at all. She glanced away, breaking eye contact first, and hating herself for showing such weakness. Hating that she could feel her bottom lip tremble, and her eyes widen in shock, all at the state of _him_.

Even imprisonment had not faded his beauty. Had not tarnished those classically handsome features of her fallen prince. She immediately hated that his exposed torso was everything she had hoped it would be—had imagined it would be. Hated that she was seeing it now in a dungeon instead of in their bedchamber on their wedding night.

Smooth muscled, and lean—maybe a bit more so since imprisonment, but still a sight to behold. His chest glistened in sweat, drawing attention to the smattering of auburn hair painted lightly across his breast, trickling down his belly and trailing off into the waistband of his trousers.

He was filthy, dishevelled, his hair maddeningly longer; those bangs nearly blotting out his eyes when they fell onto his face. Even with unkempt facial hair, he exuded sex appeal. Hans was not supposed to still be attractive to her, especially in such a state that he was in. It was…unsettling.

“Shall we start, m’lady?” the guard had asked, and Anna realized he held a leather whip in hand.

She froze, unsure if she really wanted to see this. Maybe Elsa had been right. Seeing a man tortured would surely change her perceptions of her life, and not for the better. But she could hardly go back now. She had made it this far without turning tail, might as well see it through to the end. Swallowing again, she spoke, “How…how many does he receive?”

“Twenty-five, m’lady.” The guard moved to stand behind Hans. “If he behaves.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He gets more.”

“I would like to be the one to do it,” she said, her voice coming out as a squeak. She couldn’t believe she had just said that. She’d only just been debating how watching such an act would change her, but participating? Well, that had the power to change everything.

And changing everything was exactly what she desired most of all. It was why she was here in the first place. She had to do this.

Hans gave a scoff in disbelief, but the guard, who was now eyeing her very carefully, simply nodded and handed her the whip. Her hand shook as she reached out for it. “I’ll knock when I’ve finished.”

The guard raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I’d like to do this alone.” She couldn’t do this with spectators. This was private. Personal. Between Hans and her alone.

“Of course, m’lady. Call if you need us.” The guard bowed, and ushered himself and the remaining guard from the room.

When the door was bolted closed, Hans chuckled, speaking to her for the first time since she had punched him in the face after Elsa’s frozen summer. That had been months ago, a _lifetime_ ago.

“Well, well, _Princess_ Anna. Whatever do you mean to accomplish here?” His tone was haughty, reproachful and mocking, all in one go.

Anna bristled, her fist clenching the whip tightly. She had no idea how to use it, and he knew it. He thought this was a joke, that _she_ was a joke.

And that simply would not do.

He’d soon learn otherwise.

She did not come here to be laughed at by the likes of him.

And suddenly it all became so much easier.

Taking a deep breath, and ignoring Hans, she strode firmly over to the table of laid out objects. She put the whip back, and picked up a thick leather strap instead. It was nearly the length of her forearm. She tested the weight and thickness of the strap in her hand. She could work with this.

“Twenty-five,” she said, standing at his perfectly sculpted back. The guards knew what they were doing, not a single mark marred his skin, betraying past punishments. No skin broken, no scars. “You’ll count.”

“Why are you here, Anna?” he asked, bemused. “You can’t possibly think to—” His words abruptly cut off with a sharp inhale of breath when she brought the leather down on him with a resounding whack.

It felt surprisingly good to hit him.

She’d missed her mark, swinging the air past his bare back to land on his clothed rear instead, but that didn’t really matter. He still gasped and his body still jerked on the impact, so while not her intended target, it was a good first try.

“Count,” she instructed.

He snickered to himself, still unable to take her seriously. “Little mouse, scurry back to your sister.”

“Count,” she said again, her voice harder this time. “Or we’ll just have to keep starting over.” And she smacked him again across the rear, finding that while it was satisfying to hit him, she was hesitant to hit bare flesh.

“One…two,” he mumbled between breaths.

She hit another five times in quick succession. The sound dull and muted against the wool of his trousers, punctuated by his audible gasps before he spoke each number.

She smacked him again, as hard as she could, a low groan escaping his lips. “Eight.”

It was very hard work, flogging a man, and Anna stepped back to catch her breath. Her arm was beginning to tire. She was surprised that their count was only at eight. She’d felt as though they should have been halfway done already the way her arm felt.

When she stepped forward to start up again, Hans shuffled his buttocks towards her, almost wiggling. As though he was impatient to get going again.

Shouldn’t he have been shrinking away from her? Trying to avoid the inevitable, instead of welcoming it?

His behaviour was odd to her. Perverse somehow. Anna clenched her jaw, and renewed anger washed over her. He was teasing her again. Mocking her. She drew her arm back, intending to strike him as hard as she could.

She heard him draw in an expectant breath.

He knew it was coming. He was wary. He knew.

 _Good_.

He’d learn quickly enough this wasn’t a game. Perhaps after this, she’d go back to the whip and try his back. She was feeling much more confident in her hits, and Hans could probably sense that. He was trying to deter her, she decided, trying to make her think otherwise. It only strengthened her resolve to hit harder.

_Whack!_

His whole body jerked stiffly as he muffled a cry. His breath falling in heavy pants as his body swayed on the chains from the impact. When he steadied his footing, Anna frowned. His buttocks inched back to her; this time, bending slightly towards her as he leaned his weight on his strung-up arms.

Inviting her to hit him again.

A clear taunt.

Her eyes narrowed at the insult. Anna gripped the leather strap until her knuckles went white. “I can’t hear you.” And she liked the way her voice sounded.

He was quiet. She watched the muscles in his back rise and fall with his quick breaths as he tried to even his breathing. “Ei-eight,” he gasped, the word low and breathy as if it refused to fall completely from his lips.

“It’s nine,” she corrected tersely. “One would think such a clever prince could at least keep count correctly, especially with such low numbers.”

A half laugh escaped his throat, all amused and husky, too intimate a tone for what they were doing. Her body tensed at the sound. A prickling sensation tingled through her, and it suddenly felt much too warm in the room. The dim lighting no longer felt menacing, but enticing. Quiet. Private.

 _He should not sound like that_ , her mind warned. _He sounds like he’s enjoying this_.

And that scared her. Terrified her.

Because _she_ was enjoying this. They couldn’t both be finding satisfaction in such an act. He couldn’t possibly like her hitting him. Making him count for her. He couldn’t possibly relish her being the one in control.

But there was his taut ass, backing up towards her _again_ , as if it was an impulse he had no control over. Like his body _wanted_ it.

She should leave. Somehow, something had changed. Or maybe it hadn’t, and she was simply aware of it now.

She had to be sure.

Drawing closer, she waited. Testing him. She watched as he braced himself, thinking the next strike of the strap was coming when it wasn’t. He twitched impatiently and then his body relaxed ever so slightly. She pulled her hand back again, watching him tense the muscles for the impact that wouldn’t come again. He growled quietly in frustration, his ass now wiggling as he squirmed for her attention.

His body language was practically begging her to hit him.

Anna stared in disbelief. What on earth could he possibly be getting from this?

She should leave now.

Elsa’s words echoed in her mind, ‘ _No good can come from seeing him again.’_

Her hand moved on its own accord. Some dark, shameful part of her needing confirmation. Needing to see, needing to know. Needing to explore this new territory.

She struck him, and he moaned. He bit the sound off quickly, but Anna had heard him loud and clear.

 _Moaned_.

And not in the way a prisoner should, which was in pain. No, Hans had moaned the way a lover would. The way Kristoff did when she gripped him in her palm and stroked him.

Hans had tried to take the sound back, his head bobbing as he tried in vain to swallow the noise back down his throat and pretend it had never happened.

But it had happened.

She backed away from him immediately. The leather strap falling from her hand and hitting the stone floor with a careless thump. Not that Anna could hear the sound over the thumping of her own heart beating madly in her chest.

Oh God, what was she even doing here? How had she possibly thought that this would be a good idea?

She balked. Rooted to the place she stood, paralyzed by the truth. She already knew that if she walked around to face Hans from the front, she’d see exactly what she knew was already there. The way he was chained, displayed before her, there was no hiding it.

She forced herself to take that step. To face him. To confirm the truth. She moved slowly, keeping her back straight, shoving all her composure into her spine until she moved so woodenly, her discomfort was obvious.

She didn’t look him in the eyes. It wasn’t that head that greeted her attention first anyway.

She inhaled, horror stricken and ashamed to see his arousal; the distinct ridge of his manhood straining against the now even snugger wool trousers, tenting the fabric in a way that threatened the fall front buttons to pop.

She turned and fled for the door, knocking on the wood as fast as her little fist could.

“Run little mouse.” Hans chortled to himself. “You shouldn’t be here, and now there’s a snake that’s found your den.”

The guard opened the door, and Anna forced herself to walk instead of run, panicked and scared. _Mustn’t burn this bridge_ , that dark, unpleasant part of herself instructed coldly. They’d never let her back down here again if she showed fear and ran. She wasn’t sure why it mattered to her, but it did.


	3. Chapter 3

Kristoff bit into his drumstick in a way that sent bits of grease flying. Mouth full of chicken, he began to wag the drumstick in front of her, concern etched on his face. “Where were you today? You were supposed to come to the glade with me, remember? Bulda was pretty upset.”

Anna looked up from her untouched dinner plate.

_What if you hate the way he chews?_

She did actually. Kristoff chewed like he had been raised by trolls, which he had, so it made sense. Ironic that the question had originally come from Kristoff, and she was now using it as a baseline for compatibility with her relationship to him. She glanced over at Elsa sitting across the table and sighed. Her sister was either blind to Kristoff’s table manners, or too polite to say anything.

“It’s important to keep one’s commitments, Anna,” Elsa agreed absently. “Especially to one’s soon to be in-laws.”

Anna had to keep from rolling her eyes at the unwanted advice. Elsa was so full of _that_ these days. Practically everything she did warranted some sort of lesson or chastising from Elsa. Some opportunity for her sister to impart wisdom on her. Often taking her role as ‘older sister’ to obnoxious heights. It was as though Elsa was trying to make up for years of not being a proper sister in an eighth of the timeframe. Except Anna was not a child, and did not want or need the advice, though heaven forbid she say _that_ to Elsa.

And she genuinely had forgotten about visiting the trolls. An honest mistake, but it seemed Anna wasn’t allowed to make those anymore either.

“I’m sorry, it slipped my mind,” she said, giving Kristoff a sheepish smile. “I guess I was caught up in memorizing my vows.” She didn’t like lying to Kristoff, but she wasn’t about to tell him where she had really been and what she had been doing.

She hadn’t spoken to anyone of her trip down to the dungeon to see Hans, and she wouldn’t either. As troubling as the encounter had been, there had also been something intriguing about the experience. Something that had connected with her despite her fears, something she had been trying to place her finger on and explain, but couldn’t.

She’d been trying the rest of the day to figure it out, coming up empty handed.

And what of Hans? He had been aroused.

Of course, she’d heard of such things. Never directly to her, and only in whispers from the servants around the palace whenever Elsa was hosting nobles and dignitaries from abroad. Gossip ran rampant among the staff, and Anna always found the sordid tidbits fascinating. She picked up lots of information on her peers simply by hanging around the kitchens and stables more than a princess really ought to.

Obviously, Hans was a sexual deviant, not that she should have been surprised by this news. Hans was the lowest of the low to her, so it was nothing to tack on another disgusting trait to his person. And honestly, the more she thought about Hans and the dungeon while sitting at the supper table, she couldn’t fathom ever going back down there again. Once had been more than enough.

She sighed. Elsa had been right. No good had come from seeing Hans again. Just like everything else in her life of late, it too had been a disappointment. Hans had not been sorry, nor had he been intimidated by her at all. She hadn’t caused him any real pain with her blows, and had discovered that once down there with a strap in her hand, she hadn’t really wanted to.

The image of his perfectly sculpted back jumped to the forefront of her mind. His skin speckled in freckles along his shoulders fading off onto his blades, that lean labyrinth of muscle drawn up taut and firm by his bound wrists…God. He was beautiful. A work of art, and Anna just couldn’t risk marring that perfect form, even if it did belong to Hans.

And it wasn’t just his beauty that had kept her from his bare skin, it was her own apprehension. Her own discomfort with not knowing how to wield a whip properly. She had thought that by seeing him physically hurt and by doing it herself, she would feel something akin to satisfaction. Retribution. She had wanted to feel justified in his pain, only to realize she had not wanted him hurt, not really. What she had wanted from Hans was not his pain at all.

Whatever she had gone looking for, she hadn’t found it, and the revelation had soured her mood. She had liked striking him, there was something in the act of flogging him that had connected with her, but it was troubling that she hadn’t wanted to really hurt him. It made no sense. What was the point of it if he wasn’t withering in pain?

She tapped her fork to her plate thoughtfully, trying to make some sort of connection, trying to make all the pieces fit together. Trying to make sense of what had happened in the dungeon between them.

It was like playing pretend as a child. Pretending she was fighting dragons, pretending she was the queen of the fairies, pretending she could tame wolves into pets, pretending a thousand different scenarios and acting them out. But in reality, she didn’t really want to go fight dragons, or rule over magical denizens, or tame a wild ani—

“Hello? Anna?” Kristoff’s beefy hand still clutching a drumstick waved directly in her face. Close enough she could smell the chicken left on the bone.

She blinked, focusing her attention past the hand and to Kristoff’s annoyed face. “Sorry, what?”

He rolled his eyes, but gave her an affable smile, as though she was both a nuisance and an amusement. “Staring off into space again. I swear people are going to start calling you ‘Olaf’ going around and looking _that_ vacant all the time.”

Elsa muffled a laugh with her hand. “He’s right, you know. A princess needs to pay better attention. Once you’re married, you’ll have an important role to play. You’ll be Arendelle’s ambassador to the trolls.”

“I know that,” Anna mumbled with a frown. “I’m perfectly aware of my duties—”

“And you’ll be a married woman,” Elsa continued, sagely. “You can’t be daydreaming all the time like a child. You’ll be running a household, raising children—”

“—lots of children!” Kristoff grinned, and Anna couldn’t help but notice a bit of chicken stuck in his teeth. He chuckled. “Bulda is quite adamant that she have plenty of grandchildren.”

Elsa laughed. “It will be so nice to see you settled, Anna. Married life is going to suit you just fine.”

Anna felt like the smile she had plastered onto her face would crack at any second. _Children?_ She knew it was expected that once married, her and Kristoff would start a family, but the idea of motherhood, of running a house—well, it was all a bit overwhelming, and Anna was filled with a deep sense of dread.

Dread she’d not felt at all in her hasty and ill-fated engagement to Hans. But perhaps that was part of it. She was not ready for marriage. She knew that truth, as quickly as she knew her own name. There was still so much of the world, _of life_ , that she wanted to see and do. She’d spent her life dutifully by Elsa’s side in the palace, and soon, she would spend the rest of her life dutifully by Kristoff’s side running his home, raising his children.

That sense of being swept out to sea took hold again, and she felt dizzy. Why hadn’t she just said no when Kristoff had discussed his proposal for marriage? Why couldn’t she just have convinced Elsa that she wasn’t ready? That it was much too quick?

Nobody seemed to bat an eye over a quick engagement to Kristoff, but when it had been _her_ choice, _her_ pick in a suitor…well…she had been wrong, hadn’t she? She’d already proved to everyone that she had bad judgement in men. Hans had been an awful disgrace. So what she thought, or how she felt about it hadn’t really mattered. Elsa was doing what was best for her. Elsa knew better than her.

Anna looked at the man sitting across from her. Her fiancé. Her true love. And she tried to conjure up a happy picture of her life with him. One that made her heart leap with joy, but try as she might, she just couldn’t seem to do that.

It wasn’t that she didn’t think she _could_ be happy with Kristoff; it was just that she thought she should be _happier_. That her heart should flutter at the sight of him. Instead, it felt like she was settling. Settling for a life because it was a good one, and because it was there, not because it was wanted.

“That reminds me, are you all packed for the big ice harvest?” Kristoff asked, and Anna inwardly groaned. She had not wanted to go with him up into the mountains, roughing it in the wilderness and cold, and had said so quite plainly a number of times.

“I had Gerda pack her things,” Elsa answered.

“But—” Anna interjected.

“—It’s an excellent opportunity for you to connect with some of Arendelle’s citizens, and I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun. You love the mountains.”

“Are you coming?” Anna asked.

“Oh, heaven’s no!” Elsa laughed as though Anna had made a joke. “Out in the middle of nowhere with no amenities and comforts? I hardly think that’s appropriate for a Queen.”

Anna’s grip on her fork went tighter.

_But it’s apparently appropriate for a princess, and never mind that you built an ice palace with those exact conditions._

She never got a say in anything these days. And when she did, her opinion was brushed off and ignored. How many times had she told them both that she was not comfortable with going up into the mountains? That she did not want to go?

She hated the mountains. She had hated the mountains ever since Elsa’s frozen summer. She hated the cold. She didn’t want to be anywhere cold again for the rest of her life…which was a bit of a problem, living in Arendelle where summers were short and winters were long.

But at least in the palace she could be warm. She didn’t have to go out into the harsh elements. Up in the mountains? Not so much. Staying warm was a constant battle, especially if she was expected to be outdoors in the snow. And it was finally spring. She just wanted to bask in warm sunlight, not be bundled up in winter layers.

She shivered just thinking about it. The cold was terrifying for her. Why didn’t anyone seem to get that? Cold had almost killed her. Ice was not ethereal and beautiful to her like it was for Elsa and Kristoff. Ice was death.

But the people closest to her loved it, and didn’t seem to understand that she did not feel the same. To say otherwise would be a grave insult to them both. Elsa would most definitely take it personally, and Anna couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Elsa.

Just once though, she wanted someone to listen. To understand her.

Helplessness sunk in as the conversation quickly moved on to the ice harvest trip, both Elsa and Kristoff animated and jolly, while Anna poked at her cold meal.

Nobody listened to her. Nobody followed her wishes. And why would they? Her sister was the Queen. And Kristoff, well, he was going to be her husband. He didn’t have to listen to her, but she would have to listen to him.

Just once, she wanted someone to do what she said.

It was then that an idea struck.

A puzzle piece fell into place.

And she knew what she had wanted in that dungeon. What she had been looking for in Hans.

Obedience.

Turned out, she _did_ want to tame a wild animal.

The question was how?


	4. Chapter 4

He looked up at her from his prison cot in mild surprise. His green eyes wide and inquisitive, making it obvious he had not expected to see her ever again.

“Please leave us,” she instructed quietly to the guard.

The guard gave a quick nod, and left. The heavy door separating Hans’s cell from the rest of the dungeon inmates made a loud click when it closed, followed by the latching of the lock. Anna stood with her back to the stone wall and stared at him through the bars.

“See something you like?” he teased, that sly grin spreading artfully across his lips.

“Only a dog,” she responded, hating the way his eyes practically sparkled. How even jailed and disgraced, he still held the upper hand. “A mongrel.”

He stiffened at her words, flicking his eyes away from her as if he was bored and she was worth so little of his time. As if it wasn’t the other way around. “Why are you here, Anna?”

She gave him no response, still trying to work that answer out herself. It was madness coming back here, and while she had been so sure and so brave upstairs in the palace with what she wanted, being face to face with Hans again made her question everything. Made her begin to re-evaluate why she was here.

His eyes were back on her, a knowing arrogance in his gaze. “I’d have thought you’d learned your lesson from the last time.”

She frowned, her hands bunching into fists at her sides. Humiliation rose up; her cheeks flushed remembering their last encounter, why she was even here now. How _he_ should be embarrassed. Hans had been the one humiliated. Not her.

She was in control, she reminded herself. Not him.

He’d find her a much more resilient opponent than last time. No scared little mouse scurrying away to hide at the sight of a snake.

“Did you touch yourself when they unchained you and brought you back?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant. God, she couldn’t believe she’d just said that to him. This was insane, and she should not be doing this. But it had been the only way she had thought to get what she wanted. It was the one thing she could hold over him.

His eyes narrowed and he shifted slightly, leaning back on his cot. He was getting too comfortable. As if he already knew he could beat her at this game she had started. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

Anna pulled herself up from the wall, straightening her shoulders. He was always so damned proud, so irritatingly cocky. Imprisonment hadn’t broken him at all. He hadn’t learned a damn thing here. No remorse, not even a hint of humility. No chance of his ever listening to her.

She’d teach him better.

“Did you stroke your cock until you came all over yourself after they dumped you back in here?” She spoke each word slow and deliberate, looking him straight in the eye, and hoping her cheeks had not gone bright red saying such crass things.

His eyes had widened, and he blinked, the waves of shock softly echoing over his features before being replaced with a smirk. He tsked. “Such language for a princess.”

He was trying to unsettle her, trying to make her falter. There was no love lost between them, she had no need to keep silent and consider his feelings. He wasn’t Elsa and he wasn’t Kristoff. She didn’t have to be careful with what she wanted.

She steeled her resolve, reminding herself why she had come back here.

To see him relinquish control.

To her.

“Were you still hard when they came to get you? The guards seeing your arousal, _probably_ judging you, or had you been left long enough to master your body, and clever enough to resume once you were alone?”

His face flushed, and he broke eye contact with her for the briefest second. It was enough to know the answer.

So, she pounced.

“ _Ah_ , so not so in control of yourself then. Tell me, Hans, how humiliating was it for you to have them see you so achingly hard me?” Anna smiled softly as Hans glared at her. “Or maybe you get like that every single time, regardless of whether or not—”

“—It was only that one time,” he growled defensively, almost choking out his next words, “Only with you.”

She surveyed him silently, drinking in the sight of him. Letting her gaze travel unabashedly all over him so he knew exactly what she was doing. Stopping to rest her gaze deliberately on his crotch. It was absolutely shameless. He quickly crossed his legs, but it was already too late. She’d seen enough to know.

It was her turn to smirk.

Hans was physically aroused.

“Oh my,” she teased, revelling in her newfound power. “Is that for little, old me?”

His face turned beet red. “You wouldn’t know what to do with it!” he spat.

Anna grinned at his words, inspiration striking. “Then why don’t you show me?”

“Wha—” He faltered. The look of confusion on his face was priceless. His mouth gaping stupidly. “ _What_?”

“Undo your trousers and show me,” she clarified, watching him squirm where he sat. “Touch your cock while I watch.”

He stared at her, mouth agape, breathing heavier. And she could see it there in his eyes, that tiny hint of longing, of wanting to do just that. He blinked and it was gone.

“No!” Indignation mingled with lust in his voice. “I will _not_.”

The seed was planted. Just a bit of water now. He was almost hers.

Anna shrugged as though none of it mattered. She kept her outward posture calm and cool, while inside, her entire body tingled with excitement. “It’s of no consequence to me either way.” She turned away from him, walking slowly towards the exit. “You’re here for a very long time, with no one else desiring to see you, but if one visit from me was enough, so be it.” She lifted her fist to knock on the door and signal the guard. “Good-bye, Hans. I will not be back.”

“Anna, wait!” he cried, the desperation ringing true in his voice, and she bit back a grin of triumph. He was up from his cot and at the bars in an instant; she half expected him to reach his arm through and grasp at her.

She paused before turning to face him, making it look as though she was considering his request. “That’s ‘ _my lady_ ’, to the likes of you.”

“My lady,” he whispered the words like a prayer. She shivered in delight at the sound, and revelled at the sight of his hands clenching the two bars he’d pressed his face in between. “Please…don’t go.”

“If you expect me to stay, you had better give me a reason to.”

“I—I will,” he breathed, stepping away from the bars.

Anna returned to her place in front of his cell, watching curiously as he did as he was told and slowly unbuttoned the fall front of his trousers. The heavy wool fabric fell away, exposing his erect cock jutting out from under the modesty panel buttons. His cheeks were still the brightest shade of red as he moved his hand towards his cock.

“Uh uh.” Anna wagged her finger at him. “I want your trousers around your knees. Let me see everything.”

“Jesus,” he hissed, his hands shaking with need as he worked the remaining row of buttons loose. He shimmied his trousers down to his knees, and brushed his shirttails to the side. He stood before her.

“Come here,” she beckoned. “I want a proper look.”

He swallowed hard, but shuffled forward, his rosy-hued cock poking out from between the bars. Anna dropped to a crouch, inspecting the specimen before her. God, he was beautiful. A sight to behold. That large, wine kissed head already pulling out from the foreskin, decorated with beads of precum. A thick, long shaft with balls drawn up tight, all nestled in a curly patch of dark auburn hair. He was, without a doubt, stunning.

He wasn’t like Kristoff at all, and she felt a twang of disappointment jolt through her that the man she was with was less desirable in this area than the one presenting before her. She shoved such thoughts to the back of her mind, not wanting to ruin the sense of power that coursed through her veins. Thoughts of Kristoff had no place here. This wasn’t about him. This was for her.

“Oh, my goodness,” she sighed, keeping her tone light and breathy as she leaned her head in closer. Shivering in delight when she caught the scent of his delectable sex. “You look good enough to eat.”

His cock jumped at her words, twitching in anticipation and his hips jutted forward, pressing tight against the bars. She parted her lips slowly, letting her warm breath hit his tip.

“ _Anna_.”

She’d never heard her name said with such hunger. Not from anyone. A slow ache rose up in her chest. It hurt to hear such longing from Hans first, and not from Kristoff. That Hans could be so vocal in his desire when Kristoff was not, left her just a touch angry.

She rocked back on her heels, pulling away from him. “It’s a shame I…what was it you said?” She paused coyly. “Ah, yes ‘ _I_ _don’t know what to do with it_.’ And it’s ‘ _my lady_ ’. You are not permitted to address me as _Anna_.”

He whimpered. Honest to God _whimpered_ , and Anna delighted in the sound. He wasn’t so proud now, was he?

Not when she was in charge.

“Go get comfortable, Hans. Show me what to do with it.”

Breathing hard, he nodded.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” she snapped expectantly.

“Yes, my lady,” he answered in a rush, retreating back to his cot.

“Look at you,” she trilled. “Such a quick study.”

He faced her, half lounging on his cot, slipping his hips forward, and spreading his thighs as wide as the trousers around his knees would allow. He grabbed his pillow to support his back as he leaned his head against the wall. His hand hesitated above his cock, his Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat as he swallowed hard over and over. He looked up at her, his face flushing red again.

“Well?” Anna asked impatiently.

“Sorry, sorry,” he rattled, and he almost looked cute. “I’m just—see the thing is, I, uh…I’ve never done this in front of someone before…my lady.”

She almost laughed. He was nervous. _She_ had made _Hans_ nervous.

“I want to see you.” She purred the words sweetly, thinking how best to goad him on. She met his gaze squarely. “When I go back up to my room and part my thighs tonight, I want it to be you I’m thinking of. Don’t you want that too?”

A small, wistful groan escaped his throat. His eyes sparked with unadulterated lust.

His hand was immediately on his cock. Anna watched in amazement as he gripped the shaft, tugging the flesh in a slow tantalizing motion, working up a rhythm. Her nipples went hard against her corset at the sight. She arched her back just enough to tease the steepled little buds against the constricting fabric. It was mild relief to the fire stirring inside that her little game had started. Her own arousal rather unexpected.

That she had taken this proud, arrogant man, who had used her, had never loved her, and bent him to her will, aroused her beyond reason. It was a blessing she didn’t have the keys to his cell, because her self control was wavering. The desire intoxicating.

Hans was bucking his hips up, his pace quickening, his pumping fist now including the glistening head in his movements—

She clenched her thighs together as she watched him in such a primal, vulgar performance; feeling the wetness and want build up within her with each stroke of his fist. Her slit throbbing, begging to be touched. She withheld from touching herself and joining him in such a lewd display. Ashamed the idea had even crossed her mind. She was the one in control here. Not him.

That she had reduced this cruel prince to _this_. This act of depraved carnality.

He was panting, little moans escaping in between his breaths. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed, a content look of pleasure on his lips. His head tipped back exposing his bare throat to her as he writhed—

She’d never felt like this with Kristoff.

_Alive_.

_Desired_.

_Passionate_.

She couldn’t even imagine doing _anything_ like this with Kristoff.

He would never be complicit to such acts, but Hans? Oh, Hans could. He was game. He wanted it as much as she did. She could see that plainly. He was willing to explore those dark places of desire.

Her disgraced prince.

God, if anyone found out about this—

“Hans, I order you to stop!” she barked sharply in alarm.

His hand jerked out of rhythm in surprise, stopping, and his eyes shot open angrily. “Jesus Christ, Anna! What the hell?”

“It’s ‘ _my lady_ ’,” she corrected, feeling less sure of herself. “And…and you’re lucky I don’t leave you for forgetting it. This is your last warning.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled sourly, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “ _My lady_.”

“Take your waistcoat and shirt off. We can’t have you ruining your clothes for the guards to see.”

Hans stared at her flatly. “ _My lady_ could remedy that problem with her mouth.”

“Did I ask you for suggestions?”

“No…my lady.”

“I _was_ going to help you start over,” she lied. “But your impudence has now cost you.”

Hans groaned, a scowl forming across his face as he tugged ruefully at the buttons on his waistcoat. Spoiled and ungrateful. He managed to get his remaining garments off in record speed though. “Is my lady ready for me to begin again?”

“Yes,” Anna answered haughtily. “I am.”

For all the complaining he’d done, it hadn’t taken him long to get back into pleasuring himself in front of her. He seemed to have gotten past his earlier embarrassment on that rather quickly, and was quite eager to perform for her a second time.

“You’ll not spend until I say so,” she stated, feeling like she had lost a bit of ground with him that needed to be reclaimed.

“Fuck,” he hissed in displeasure, slowing his rhythm down, and loosening his grip.

“No,” she scolded, rather liking the coarse word said in her presence. “Fuck yourself faster.”

“Ann—my lady,” he gasped, his speed quickening as per her instructions. “I can’t—”

“You _will_ , and you’ll go _harder_.”

“ _Oh God!_ ” He moaned, his head tipping back as his hand pumped furiously. “Oh fuck! I’m so close! I’m going to— _Please_!”

“Hold it—”

“—I can’t!” he cried in pleasure induced agony, inhaling sharply.

“Ease off! Gently now,” Anna instructed quickly, fascinated by his control. By his ability to follow her commands at the drop of a hat. His whole body trembled as a sob of pure frustration escaped his lips. He’d been so close to release, to an earthshattering orgasm, and she’d taken it from him. She let that sink in. With a few short commands that _he had obeyed_ , she had _taken it from him_. It was exhilarating.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking, his hands shaking. “Let me come.”

“You did well today, and I’m proud of you,” she complimented. “As a reward for your obedience, you may fuck yourself until you come, but do it quickly. I find my attention waning.”

“Th-thank you, my lady.” He crawled lengthwise onto his cot, laying on his back. His breathing hard but steady, his hand palming his erect length until it had him gasping. He gripped it tightly, yanking the shaft with lightening speed, and grunting as his seed shot forth in mere seconds, spilling into his hand. She’d granted him release, but it had been nowhere near the orgasm she’d just taken from him, and he knew it.

When the tremors of pleasure faded, he looked over at her, his face bemused and lazy. “Did you find what you came looking for, my lady?”

“Yes,” Anna decided aloud. “Yes, I think I have.”


	5. Chapter 5

Oh God. Oh sweet Jesus. Oh _Fuck_.

Her legs trembled as she hurried away from the dungeon, her balance wobbly from the sudden adrenaline crash. Her nerves failing the moment she had left him spent and content behind that dungeon door. Her body felt like it was on fire, her stomach in knots. She might throw up. She felt giddy and faint all at the same time.

Electricity tingled through her veins.

What had she just done? What had _they_ just done?

Anna replayed the scene all over in her mind from start to finish, leaving out no detail. Her face burned.

_Oh God Oh God Oh God_ …

Fearing her knees would buckle at any second, she ran on her shaky legs all the way up to her room. Locking the door once she was safely inside her private quarters.

She rubbed her hands haphazardly over her face as she made her way to her washbasin. Thoroughly distraught. A few splashes of cool water had done nothing to abate the heat that burned her to the core.

_No one is here. No one can see you._

_No one will know what watching him did to your body_.

Heart racing, she checked the lock on her door one last time before shimmying out of her drawers and bunching up her skirts. She had never had the urge to touch herself so badly before, the need almost unbearable.

Dropping onto her bed, she spread her thighs wide, dipping her index finger between her soaked folds, searching out her clit. Finding the erect, little nub, she fingered it with a savage intensity. She writhed, turning her head into her pillow, biting it to stifle her cries as she rubbed herself to the brink, only to pull back, like she had done to Hans. Frustration building, she savoured it.

She pulled her head up from her pillow, catching her breath, pulse still racing. She wanted this to be perfect. Needed it to be worth it, because what she had just done in the dungeon…

Her tongue flicked over her lips, remembering his cock. The girth, the length, how it glistened in even the dimmest of lighting…her empty cunt clenched in want. What would a cock like that even feel like inside her?

She moaned at the thought of being filled by him, aching for his prick to stretch her as wide as possible as she took him to the hilt. To feel that soft velvet heat inside her, hard and pulsing, clamping her walls down on him, encasing him as he moaned her name…it was almost too much.

Feverishly, she slipped her hand down to tease her wet opening, finding her sex dripping, and onto her comforter too. The damp spot on the fabric causing her to blush. _Oh God_ , what had he done to her? She’d never been this wet from Kristoff’s physical attentions, and Hans hadn’t even touched her. All she’d done was watch him. Command him.

Her slender finger slipped inside too easily, a first in her personal explorations. Usually she needed to work up to it, coat her finger in saliva first, but not today. She didn’t need to be careful or tentative today. Her cunt greedily took whatever she offered, and as she worked her sex, pumping the one finger deeply, a soft, rhythmic sloshing sound filled the silence in her room, punctuated by her quiet, needy sighs. One finger not being nearly enough.

Anna tried for two, something she’d never tried before, and found two fingers slid in just as easily as one. She groaned in satisfaction as her walls clamped around her fingers, sucking them in deep, as far as they would go. She remembered the rhythm he’d used, mimicking it herself now, her fingers working in place of his imaginary cock, and still not enough. Another finger.

_Yes_.

Her teeth dragged across her bottom lip as she added another finger, her pussy lips stretching to accommodate a girth that filled her in the most pleasant manner. Pretending it was him, though she was sure he was still much wider.

When she’d told him that she had intended to touch herself to his memory, she hadn’t thought for a second that she would actually do that. Now it was exactly what she was doing.

Here she was, thinking of his cock filling her, fucking her, as her orgasm mounted and she came.

She shuddered as wave upon wave of bliss tore itself from somewhere deep inside. Wrenching every bit of pleasure from every inch of her body. Until she lay there, panting and dazed. Her body exhausted, but humming with vigour all at the same time.

It was the best orgasm she’d ever had. And she wanted another.

Her fingers drifted back to her clit, ready for round two. Ready to spend the rest of the day coming again and again.

A knock came loud on her door, startling her from her experiments.

“My lady?” Gerda called from behind the door, and Anna should have been annoyed, but the words brought a smile to her lips, thinking of how Hans had said them.

“Yes, just a moment,” Anna replied, quickly sitting up and righting her clothing.

“Master Kristoff is looking for you. He’s ready to leave for the mountains.”

The mountains. She groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be right down.”

She grumbled quietly to herself, hating that she could not explore herself and what she’d done further while it was still fresh in her mind. She was far from sated on her fantasy and had wanted to try for another climax and another with the memory of Hans.

She sighed in frustration. She ought to get used to putting Kristoff’s needs over her own. It was her duty as his soon-to-be-wife.

***

Hans stared up at the ceiling of his cell, completely dumbstruck, trying to make sense of what the hell had happened. Part of him was convinced he’d been dreaming, except his sated cock and the lingering scent of her perfume confirmed that he hadn’t been. That it had been real.

He didn’t pretend to understand women. And he sure as hell didn’t understand Anna. All he could discern from her was that she was looking for something. That had been obvious. Why on earth she was searching him for it was beyond his comprehension.

But then, Anna had never really made any sense to him. She was something that existed outside of any realm of knowledge he possessed. She was a curiosity to him, and his downfall, and he’d have been lying if he said he hadn’t been intrigued by her presence, not once, but twice now.

Truth be told, he had not expected to ever see Anna again after their last meeting—after she’d seen him at what he’d thought had been his most debased. He hadn’t known he’d _wanted_ to see her again after _that_ humiliation.

But the jolt of excitement he’d felt seeing her again. _God_ …it had been exhilarating. He’d known right away they were on the cusp of something, something special, though he couldn’t know for sure what exactly it was. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

The closest he’d come to this feeling was the last time he’d seen her. He’d known then, the moment she had picked up that leather strap that he had wanted it.

It was a terrifying revelation. That he could find pleasure in being hit. That the pain she’d inflicted had aroused him. It was the first time any of his physical punishments had meant something or caused such a reaction in him. It had felt _right_. Anna punishing him instead of some nameless guard. It was so fitting. So _perfect_.

Of course, he’d been ashamed. So ashamed. That was part of it. His cheeks had burned in mortification, his palms sweaty, and he’d been desperate to keep her from finding out that he had wanted it, but unable to help himself from seeking it. That she had aroused his cock from slumber, awakening his very soul. That each delicious strike brought him closer to a sexual atonement of sorts.

Nothing had been more humiliating than the guards returning and seeing him like that. _Pervert_ , they’d called him, disgust on their faces. And it had dredged up memories from his youth that were best left forgotten.

He’d been so ashamed. His cock straining against his damp trousers, begging for release. All because of Anna.

Little, willful Anna. Too naïve, too stubborn to know what she had really gotten herself into. Far too innocent to really understand a man’s depraved carnal needs, and he’d learned well enough from last time that she was trouble. His little dalliance with her had cost him dearly. Anna was a dangerous path to take again.

So he’d scared her off—for good he’d thought, which was for the best.

Except he hadn’t.

Anna had returned to him. And who was he to resist?

One look at her and his wants became singular. Aligned in a single, solitary goal. Perhaps it had been because he hadn’t seen anyone new in ages. Only the stony-faced guards and stern clergymen. Perhaps it had been because he hadn’t seen a woman in ages, and that sort of thing made a man desperate. Or perhaps it was simply because it was _Anna_ , and he’d never expected anything like this from her.

Most definitely the latter.

Behind that unassuming, soft, sweet demeanor was a woman made of fire and iron. A woman who knew what she wanted and demanded it of him.

It was beyond arousing, in a way Hans didn’t entirely understand. Yet when she used that tone of voice, when she looked down on him like that, like he was absolutely nothing, like he was the lowest of the low, beneath her time and her company, he had been thrilled to his very core. He had the inexplicable urge to please her. To prove her wrong. Prove that he was worth it.

_You did well today, and I’m proud of you._

He hadn’t known how badly he’d needed those words. How he had craved them. How they’d been rolling around in his head over and over, until his cock was hard again and again. He’d been furiously rubbing himself off to those words since she’d left. Each orgasm coming nowhere near as good as it had been with her watching him. Her being proud of him.

He wanted more. He needed it.

God, he needed it so much that it hurt. Made his chest tighten and breath faint.

No one had ever been proud of him his entire life.

No one had ever told him he’d done a good job.

Until today.

She had left him there, naked but for his trousers round his legs, cock spent, seed wet in his hand.

And smiling.

He was smiling. Genuinely smiling…and it felt good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled. And it was all because Anna had come to him. All because of Anna.

Whatever she had been looking for, she had said she found it. And Hans was compelled to give her whatever it was she wanted, so long as she made him feel like _that_ again. _Sated. Alive. A very bad boy needing to repent_.

Seeing her again actually made him feel guilty. Made him feel like he deserved to be punished. Punished by _her_. It was sordid and immoral.

Just thinking about it again made his cock twitch in hunger. He spit in his palm, hand gripping his shaft for another round. He had to see her again. She had to come back.

_God_ , he sighed, working his cock into another hurried orgasm. He wanted her back here watching him. Commanding him.

Pretending to hear her voice in his head while he came wasn’t nearly enough.

***

There were only two good things about being on the ice harvest. One was that it gave her time to think. Time to plan. Time to seriously consider what it was she wanted to do about Hans. And two, the ice harvest confirmed that she wanted to see him again and continue exploring what they had tentatively started.

Since the incident with Hans, everything outside of the dungeon paled in comparison. Was boring and mundane. Lacklustre. Her thoughts always went back to Hans.

There would have to be boundaries. Yes, most definitely boundaries. This couldn’t work unless Anna had rules in place. Rules to keep her safe. Rules to make this madness appear acceptable.

There would be no sex. That was a given. What this was wasn’t about sex for her anyway. Anna would not give Hans her body. To do so would be betraying Kristoff, and she couldn’t have that. Kristoff was her true love. Hans would not be permitted to even touch her.

She fretted over what constituted as unfaithfulness, deciding that she would have to play that by ear. She was already hedging the line and dabbling in grey over her last encounter with Hans.

In the end, she concluded that ultimately, watching Hans masturbate and then masturbating herself in private, did not count as cheating. Men frequented clubs of ill repute all the time to watch such acts while married, so Anna failed to see how this was any different.

She didn’t feel as though she had done anything wrong, but guilt had still seeped in. Keeping secrets had never sat well with her, but seemed to run in the family. She justified that it was simply her turn.

And it wasn’t as though Hans had touched her and gotten her off. She had done that all on her own. And Hans had done the same, albeit with her instruction and her observing. So none of it was really all that bad compared to Elsa’s secret which had nearly torn the kingdom apart.

The natural course of action for Anna was to continue to pursue what she had found and see where it would take her.

Of course, if Hans were to even go along with such a madcap idea, there would have to be incentive for him to do so. And that was what had her worried. She would have to touch him eventually—at least with her hands. The very idea sent a pleasant thrum of heat to her loins. Touching Hans—

She shook that train of thought loose. Best not to go there.

She had already decided that she could not progress with her ideas further unless she first had Hans’s consent to do so. To conduct herself otherwise would not suit her purpose. She wanted Hans to submit to her willingly. There was no point in any of this if he didn’t. If he was forced.

She wanted power over him, but she wanted it to be willing. The best power was given freely. It was hard for her to make sense of it, as the two ideas seemed to almost conflict one another. It was Hans. And Hans would not easily submit, if at all, to her the way she wanted.

She likened it to trying to tame a wild animal. If she was going to tame a wild animal and turn it into a pet, she would have to be both firm, but gentle. Enticing but commanding. She would have to meet the needs of such a creature and earn its trust. And even then, the only way to master such a beast would be with discipline and respect. She would have to establish herself as the superior. As the alpha. As the master. Hans would have to learn to accept and respect her authority over him.

And she had very little idea on how to do that.

Luckily, Anna had thought to bring along some books last minute that might help her formulate a plan on how to go about ‘taming Hans’ as it were. They weren’t quite what she wanted in information, but it was the best she could come up with on such short notice.

She dug two books out from her travel satchel, one, a book on obedience training for hounds, and the other on breaking horses.

What she really wanted was more information on flagellation and other sexual perversions. She’d already discerned Hans as a deviant, and she could use that to her advantage if she just knew how to. But obtaining that sort of information would require some very quiet work on her part that she just wasn’t sure she could pull off without getting caught. It was hardly a proper subject for a lady of her stature and status to pursue. In fact, just being a female meant she should never know anything of such a debased world to begin with.

So, for the time being, she would focus on learning how to train animals and apply that knowledge to her own ideas and imagination. At least being on the ice harvest gave her plenty of time to do that. Her days were basically free, albeit cold, while her nights were spent with Kristoff.

Being engaged allowed them a few personal liberties that usually ended with Anna’s hand stroking Kristoff to climax, though her own pleasure eluded her with his attentions. He never ventured past her waistline with his hand or kisses. Whether he even thought to or not was beyond her. Women were not supposed to ask for pleasure. To do such a thing was crude, and as Elsa had never missed an opportunity to tell her, _a lady was never crude_.  

It was frustrating to have to tend to herself after he had fallen asleep, but that would change once they were married and allowed to make love. The idea of making love made her giddy. She’d read more than enough dashing romances to know how all of that worked. True love always prevailed in the bedroom.

Perhaps she could experiment and try new things with Kristoff and eradicate the need for Hans in the first place. If she could replicate what she had felt with him in the dungeon, then perhaps that would be the ideal solution to her problems.

But when Kristoff came to her that night, she was dismayed to find his presence lacked the same excitement and allure she’d felt with Hans. It didn’t help either that Kristoff was not receptive to trying something new, and had preferred they just stick to the basics, because _why fix what wasn’t broken?_

When he had finished, he kissed her cheek, rolled over and was soundly snoring within minutes, while Anna was left awake and unsatisfied. He hadn’t even tried to hold back or show any restraint like Anna had suggested, nor was he up for any teasing. She sighed, not in the mood to touch herself, her desire as fleeting as Kristoff’s orgasm.

Instead, she turned up the wick on the oil lamp and began to read. She had a lot of work to do.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a month since Anna had last seen Hans, but within that month, she had been busy planning. Planning his punishments, planning what she wanted to get out of him, what she hoped to accomplish for herself. Not a day went by that she wasn’t thinking about the man left to be forgotten in the Arendelle dungeons.

It had worked in her favour that Elsa had no interest in prisoners once they’d been imprisoned. It meant that Anna had the freedom and the authority to come and go from the dungeons as she pleased and make changes without Elsa finding out. The way the prison guards saw it, Elsa’s letter gave Anna free reign.

It had not been what Elsa’s letter had been meant for, but really, if Elsa had actually cared what Anna was up to these days instead of being preoccupied with being the ‘perfect’ older sister or perfecting ice sculptures in the courtyard, then maybe Anna wouldn’t have done it. She’d never felt more disconnected from her sister, even after years of closed doors and being shut out.

As it were, what was done was done, and all Anna needed was to broach the subject with Hans.

She was nervous. Too nervous as she scurried down into the dark depths of the palace and to the room where he’d be set up to receive his monthly lashes. If all went well, and he agreed to the change in management, she’d be administering his punishments and in charge of his care from now on.

When she was allowed entrance, her heart immediately fell into her stomach upon seeing him again. He was strung up by his wrists in chains in the middle of the room, just like when she had first seen him. Bare chest, pants and boots on, feet firmly planted on the ground. The table of leather whips and straps laid out within reach of his perfect body. She lost her nerve instantly.

She couldn’t do this.

This was sheer madness.

She was getting married in a few months for God’s sake.

She should just try talking to Elsa again. Work things out. Make her sister listen.

She turned for the door to leave, but he spoke.

“ _My lady_.” His voice was sweet, melodic but with an edge. “Or is that a mouse I see scurrying away?”

Her spine turned to steel at his words and she spun around to face him. Furious that he even had the gall to speak to her in such a mocking way. He wasn’t the one in charge. Hadn’t she already made that point clear the last time she had seen him? Maybe enough time had passed and he’d forgotten and she lost the ground she’d gained.

And how dare he?

She’d show him.

“I’ll thank you to keep your comments to yourself, lest you incur my ire,” Anna replied stiffly, pleased with her commanding vocabulary.

Hans laughed.

He _laughed_.

He didn’t take her seriously. She clenched her teeth in anger. Coming here was a mistake. How had she ever thought he’d agree to what she was going to propose? There was no taming Hans. He would never let her.

“Why are you here, Anna?” he asked, the remnants of the laugh still splayed across that damned perfect mouth.

“I’ve…uh, I’ve…” Her cheeks flushed red, her determination faltering. “I’ve decided to take an active interest in your punishments.”

He cocked his head, a lock of auburn hair falling into one eye. “Have you now?”

She cursed silently. Damn him! He wasn’t supposed to look that good. Now that she was actually looking at him, she could see he was cleaner than the last time she’d seen him. At some point he’d been allowed a wash and a shave, and while a beard was growing in again, it was nowhere near what it had been before.

“How often are you allowed a bath?” she asked without thinking.

He stared at her, and Anna couldn’t tell if it was with surprise or offense. “Once or twice a month.”

“That will have to change,” Anna said to herself, making a note of it. He’d need to be much cleaner if she was going to have to touch him. And that beard and long hair would have to go. She wrinkled her nose. She wanted him to look like _Hans_. Not some scruffy vagabond version of Hans. She wanted _Prince Hans_.

She critiqued him silently. He certainly still acted like a prince. He only needed to look like one again.

 

For Hans, the moment she had entered the room his body lit up. Tingled with anticipation. He’d been going mad the past few weeks, wanting nothing more than to see her again. He’d been driving himself crazy, to the brink of insanity wondering if she’d ever come back after what had transpired the last time they’d met.

He had liked it, and he was fairly certain she had too. They had started _something_. Something insane. Something terribly depraved. Something outside the bounds of societal normalcy. And he had wanted more.

He’d felt for sure she’d be back within a day or two.

But she hadn’t.

It had been a whole twenty-eight days since he’d last seen her. She’d had him so consumed with desire for her return that he’d actually _counted_ the days. If she saw the ticks scratched onto his cell wall, would she know it was all for her?

Then she’d been in a room with him for all of two seconds after making him wait for her for _a_ _whole goddamned_ _twenty-eight days,_ and she was turning for the door to leave him.

She couldn’t leave. Not when he needed this.

He cringed inside, knowing just how badly he had wanted her to come back. How desperately he’d waited, eagerly sitting up like a dog whenever that heavy wooden door leading to his solitary cell had opened, hoping, praying, needing it to be her coming back.

And it was never her.

Until now.

And she wanted to leave.

He’d have said anything. _Anything_ at all to make her stay. He already knew just how pathetic that made him.

He decided his best bet was to make her angry. Rile her up a bit. Anna always was a tempest when angry. It filled her up with courage, made her brave, made her impulsive, reactive. He’d baited her, and thank God she had taken the bait. Because now she was staying.

Now she was walking towards him, talking to him in that haughty tone with words she would never use in normal conversation, and it made him giddy. Punch-drunk. Made his cock _throb_.

And _oh God_ , if he got her angry enough, maybe she’d take one of those leather straps and make him a good, obedient boy again.

But first, she had a proposition for him. He liked that.

He listened carefully, trying his best to keep his excitement at bay when she told him of her plans. How she wanted to be the one to oversee his punishments. How she wanted to be the one to inflict them. How she had things she wanted to try, to _do_ to him.

She was asking for his permission. As if she had needed to do something so ridiculous in the first place. He was her prisoner. He wasn’t stupid. He had left her for dead and tried to murder her sister, and Anna—sweet, dear little Anna—felt she needed him to consent first to her line of _punishments_.

No one had ever asked for his permission when beating him before.

It was almost laughable. At least it would have been if she weren’t so damn serious about it. It was obvious that she had spent a great deal of time thinking this through, so the least he could do was humour her. It was kind of adorable really, just how naïve she still was.

“You do understand what a prisoner is, right?” he asked sardonically. “I lost my rights—”

“My punishments are…different.”

“Different like last time?”

“You consented!” she blurted out, almost guiltily.

He liked the way her cheeks flushed red. It confirmed that she had liked their last time and wanted more too.

“And I’ll give my consent again if you answer me one question.”

She squinted at him in suspicion. “Okay,” she agreed, a wariness in her gaze, and Hans was half afraid she’d bolt and really leave him if she didn’t like his question. He’d have to be careful with this.

“Why does my permission matter so much to you?”

 “I—” she hesitated, glancing up at him, and for the first time since he’d seen her while imprisoned, she dropped all pretenses and was the Anna he remembered. The Anna from the docks. “I don’t want to really hurt you like the guards do. I thought that was what I wanted the first time I came here, but I was wrong.” Her hands fidgeted nervously, twisting around themselves. “I like the illusion of hurting you better, if that makes any sense.”

It didn’t. Not really, though something in it struck a chord with him. He had liked when she hit him, so maybe while he got hard being hit, she got wet hitting.

“Okay…so what is it that you _do_ want from this?”

 

His question startled her, but it wouldn’t be fair not to answer him honestly.

“You.” Anna was surprised at how quickly she could say it. She wanted of Hans what nobody could get from him. “I want your honesty. I want your obedience. I want you to submit to me, relinquish control of yourself and be mine.”

He was quiet for a few minutes, and Anna was positive he would refuse her. What she was asking of him was so far out of any social norms. It was a depraved perversion, and if anyone she knew ever found out about this…

She was just waiting for Hans to point it all out, call her crazy, mock her—

“I think I can do that,” he answered quietly, not meeting her eye. “I’m not going to deny that what we did…well, it _did_ something for me. I’m just not exactly sure what that something is yet.”

Anna nodded. She understood what he meant. There was something there in this, in what they were doing that had them both curious enough to come back to it. To explore it further and see what it was.

It compelled her. It had felt right coming back to him. Something inside of her had just clicked into place the moment she had decided to see where this could go. It was frightening, but then most risks worth taking were.

For the first time in months, Anna felt like something in her world made sense again. She had found something that was just for her, something that made her feel empowered and in control of her life once more, even if it was only a small piece. It was precious to her, important beyond measure, though she wouldn’t say such a thing aloud.

“We’ll have to set up boundaries—rules in place to—”

“—I know you aren’t having sex with me,” Hans interrupted blandly. “I know you aren’t like that. I also know you are involved with another man, and I know that this isn’t about sex for you.”

“Is it for you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Neither of us can say that it’s not a part of it for me. I won’t insult you with a lie and say otherwise. I guess it depends on what you’re willing to allow, but it is a good incentive for my obedience, isn’t it?” He gave her a wink.

“I’ll touch you,” Anna stated, ignoring his obvious use of charm, and having already thought about the particulars. She had decided beforehand what she counted as being unfaithful to Kristoff and what was a grey area. “But you will not touch me. I’ll not kiss you, and I won’t pleasure you with my mouth either. You will have no access to my person unless I allow it.”

“I agree to those terms.”

“It’s not real,” she said, trying her best to explain. “What we’re doing, it’s like a game, make believe. A way to figure something out. You see, I’m—” She caught herself and shook her head softly. “Never mind.”

“You can say it, you know,” he replied, meeting her eye. “Who am I going to tell?”

He was right, and maybe she could confide her secrets with him again. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere and it wasn’t like his opinion meant anything to her, so she could be candid with her words. And it might be good to finally say the words out loud. She didn’t want to admit that Hans had always been the easiest person to talk to and that she had missed it. “I’m not sure I’m happy anymore.” She paused, studying his reaction and finding none. “I’m not entirely convinced I ever was.”

“I’m no stranger to unhappiness.” He shifted his weight to his other foot, contemplating, the chains above him rattling softly. “So, it’s happiness you’re hoping to find in this?”

Anna shook her head. “I’m hoping to find myself.”

Hans nodded. “Fair enough.”

“We’ll set it up so we can stop. Stop at any time for any reason. If it gets to be too much or it’s crossing a line, we need a word between us. An understanding that it stops with a word. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Like ‘stop’, perhaps?” He smirked.

She shook her head, ignoring his jest. Unsure how he’d react to her next words. “I might…I might _want_ to hear you resist. I might want you begging me to stop without actually having to stop the play, do you understand? It needs to be a different word, one that wouldn’t come up.”

“Yes, I understand. You want to test limits and cross boundaries. See how far we can really go. I might be in a situation where no could really mean yes.”

“Exactly,” Anna answered, “We just need to agree upon the word.”

“Sextant.”

“What? Like that thing navigators use on ships?”

“Yeah.” He looked self-conscious. “I can’t think of it ever coming up, and it’s easy for me to remember. Unless you’ve got a better word?”

Anna shook her head. “No, sextant it is then.”

“So…” His voice dropped off, and Anna couldn’t think of any words to pick up with. She wasn’t quite sure what to say next. The whole conversation was surreal, like a strange and vivid dream. An awkward silence fell between them and he shifted his eyes elsewhere, staring down at the floor.

“I…” Anna began slowly, needing to break the silence. “I guess I should give you the rest of my rules upfront. There are things I expect from you, unconditionally. If you can’t agree to any of them, I don’t think this is going to work.”

 “All right.”

“First, you will speak only when you have my permission to, and you will address me as ‘My Lady’.”

“I can do that.”

“You will not…” She quickly brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, feeling nervous as hell saying this. “You will not _spend_ unless I tell you to.”

His brows creased into a frown, his expression sour. “Now how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

Anna shrugged as nonchalantly as she could, knowing damn well this could be the deal breaker. From what she knew of men, what she was asking was taboo, but it was imperative Hans agree. She could think of nothing more powerful than having that kind of control over him.

“Your pleasure isn’t a right,” she explained. “It is a privilege. A privilege that I decide if and when you get or not. It belongs to me. You seemed to be fine with it before in your cell, but if you don’t think—”

“—It’s fine,” he answered tensely. “I can do it. Is that all?”

Anna thought for a minute, trying to steady how rapid her heart was beating. He’d _agreed_. “Yes, I think so. Now repeat them all back to me, even the ones I said earlier.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid or hard of hearing.”

“Prove it.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “I will relinquish myself to your command and obey your orders. I will not touch your person. I will not speak unless told to. I will address you as ‘ _my lady’_. I will not come unless I’m allowed to. Our word to end something is sextant. Have I forgotten anything?”

“No. You did good.”

“I have something to add then, if I’m allowed to.”

“That seems only fair, but I’ll have to hear it before I agree to it.”

“We don’t speak to anyone of this. About what we do. This is strictly between you and I. Understand? Nobody else. Not your sister. Not your suitor. Not for any reason. We take this to our graves.”

“Our graves? That’s a little extreme. I mean, I have no intention of telling anyone—”

“I’m serious. No one must know about this. You are spoken for, and am I not correct that in a few months you’ll be married to the man?”

_Married_.

The word made her blood run cold.

“Yes,” she answered but it came out as a whisper.

“Then we cannot get caught. If I’ve to duel, I will not backdown or go easy on him, even for your sake, understand?”

Anna swallowed. The gravity of what she had proposed sinking in. “Yes. Though I have a hard time seeing Kristoff suggest such a thing—”

“I’m not finished.” His voice was hard. “We also run the risk of being institutionalized if caught.”

She inhaled sharply. “An asylum? Surely not!”

“I’ve no doubt your sister would save _you_ from such a fate, it’s myself I’m primarily looking out for in that regard. What we are talking about doing is outside the realm of natural order. It’s _unnatural_. Whatever this is to you, no one else will see it as anything but a sexual perversion, even if that’s not what it is to you.”

She nodded. “I will not say anything about this. And what about you? Even with the risks, do you still agree?”

“I’ve not changed my mind, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m ready to begin when you are.”

Anna took a deep breath. She couldn’t really believe they were actually going to try and do this. No matter how many times she’d gone over it, she hadn’t really thought that Hans would agree to any of it. That he had, well…that made him look different in her eyes.

What sort of man would start such a thing with a woman in the first place, especially knowing the risks? Risks Anna had no idea even existed up until a few moments ago.

She supposed with time she would soon find out.

She clasped her hands together. “It’s settled then. Good. I’ve things to put into place, so now that we are in agreement, I’ll leave you be.”

He gawked at her. “ _What?_ ”

“Address me properly, please.”

“My lady, what do you mean by leaving? We’ve not started any—”

“Oh, but we have, and yes, you have my permission to speak,” Anna answered sweetly. “In celebration of our happy arrangement, I’m giving you a day off. There will be no lashes today. However, you are not to touch yourself in a sexually gratifying manner until I see you next and give you permission to do so.”

He stared stupidly at her. “I’m not _allowed—_ ” He sputtered, looking panicked. “At _any_ time? I didn’t think—How…how long until I see you again?”

“That would be telling, and where’s the fun in that? I’ll see you when I see you.”

“How would you possibly know whether I did or didn’t pleasure myself? You can’t watch me day and night.”

“I won’t know,” Anna replied. “But you will. So, I guess that’s entirely up to you, isn’t it? Will you honour our arrangement or not? Seems a waste not to at least try.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

“Do try,” she urged. “And no lies, Hans. If you do touch yourself at all in my absence, I expect to hear about it. Good-bye for now.”


	7. Chapter 7

After Anna had left him, the guards returned. He was unshackled from his chains and escorted to the bathhouse instead of his cell. Apparently, Anna had already begun making changes to his prison routine. Regular baths and grooming were now going to be mandatory. He had no complaints there. He missed his daily grooming and was more than happy to have it back.

Hans kept his smile to himself. If anything, he had just agreed to one hell of a bargain that would make his imprisonment much more comfortable. Much more lenient. Saying yes to Anna’s proposal was one of the easiest things he’d ever done, and he couldn’t help but think that somehow Anna was getting the short end of the stick.

Whatever she was trying to accomplish, it didn’t feel much like punishment for him. It was rather the opposite. Not that he was going to tell her that. He wasn’t above playing her game, even if she did have no idea that she had given him the equivalent of a holiday. Obeying Anna was going to be easy. Too easy. Whether she saw her little journey of self discovery as the sordid, little sex game it was or not, wasn’t his problem.

She had no idea what his life was like prior to their meeting. No idea that Hans had become resilient to real pain a long time ago. Long before he’d set foot on Arendelle soil. He’d spent his entire life being bossed around, picked on, humiliated, beaten. Nothing Anna could think up in the content of her ‘ _plays_ ’ would come close to the things Hans had already endured in his lifetime. It was nothing to him to agree to her terms. Let her pretend she owned him if she wished.

He didn’t feel bad about duping the princess, rather, he was prouder of that fact more than anything. Anna had no idea what she had just given him, and it was a hell of a lot more than what he’d be giving her. She’d make a terrible diplomat, and for the sake of her kingdom, he hoped she never went into trade negotiations.

It was almost sad how she had enough faith in him, still, after everything, that she’d think he’d actually follow her orders in her absence. That he would actually do as he was told when she wasn’t there watching him. It was cute. Almost.

After he’d been bathed and groomed, he was given a fresh set of clothing—his own, in fact. And it was nice to feel much more like himself again. The rich fabric on his skin, the colours. The familiarity. He supposed he owed Anna that.

When his supper arrived that evening, it was actual food, and not just the watered-down sludge Arendelle called ‘stew’ that he’d been eating for months. The first mouthful of baked fish smothered in herbs and spices was divine. He closed his eyes, savouring the flavour, the texture, an appreciative groan fell off his lips. Real food. God, he had missed this.

Anna had been quite serious when she had taken to overseeing his care, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was thankful for all the little comforts that had been returned to him. Turned out he was wrong, Anna had a knack for seeing the whole picture, and would make an excellent diplomat.

When she’d said she was going to oversee him, Hans had assumed she had only meant the punishments. That was what had mattered to her. That was what she had enjoyed. That was where she was ‘finding herself’. He’d not thought for a second that Anna would have considered the rest of his care while imprisoned. But she had.  

It puzzled him. Why go through so much trouble to see to his creature comforts? He supposed that was simply Anna. She had needed his permission, after all. Still such a ludicrous, and completely Anna-like thing to do. He chuckled to himself. Anna, so full of brass and fire, yet too sweet natured to fully commit to whipping a man for fun. Hell, she’d even invented a safe word to stop if things got to be ‘too much’. Anna was positively adorable, and would have been eaten alive had he ever brought her home.

She was a maiden princess, and had never been exposed to the depravity of men until now. She likely felt guilty for all the paltry punishments her sugar-coated brain had thought up, and was compensating for her soon-to-be-actions. That thought did make him laugh aloud. Anna was always going to be Anna, even when she was playing pretend and bossing him about, striking him… _stroking_ him…

His belly fluttered at the thought, desire pooling, making his nerves tingle. She’d yet to actually touch him in such a way, but that hadn’t stopped the onslaught of his imagination at the prospect of her doing just that. He pushed his finished dinner tray away so he could lie back on his cot.

He’d done fairly good avoiding the more licentious—and quite frankly, _prominent_ detail—of their new arrangement, now letting his mind wander to all the carnal thoughts he had on the subject. Whether sex was his drive for agreeing to Anna’s terms, he still wasn’t sure, though he could not deny that it was a huge part of it. He was more comfortable with entertaining this mindset over the _other one_.

The one that haunted him, pricking him like invisible needles from the shadows in the still of the night. Keeping him awake, and eating away at his conscience.

It wasn’t because it was Anna, he told himself fiercely. He’d agreed to this because it was taking advantage of a situation. The fact that it was Anna at the helm of it meant nothing to him. He’d agree to the same arrangement had it been anyone. It would have been stupid not to. And Hans was not stupid.

And yet, even he couldn’t figure out why it had to be him. Why she wasn’t trying all this out on her precious true love. He rolled his eyes at the sentiment. _True love_. Any man would be foolish not to let Anna explore her budding sexuality in their company, especially if it bloomed into something so deliciously lewd.

So why wasn’t the fiancé?

It was obvious she’d at least done _something_ with the man prior to her coming to the dungeons. Had _some_ experience with men. She’d been too at ease with Hans that day in his cell. Too familiar with his nakedness, his manhood. She may have been a virgin, but not an entirely pure one. Not the same Anna who had been _his_ fiancée.

The dynamics of her relationship were of no consequence to him, so long as the other man— _Kristoff_ , she’d said—didn’t find out. Men could be unpredictable and violent over slights concerning women, especially wives. Hans had seen enough men bloodied, maimed, _murdered_ over his siblings’ wives and lovers to last a lifetime. And that had just been from his reasonable brothers, not the violent ones.

And while Hans would not be having intercourse with Anna, he doubted that detail would matter stacked up against the rest of it, if the fiancé ever found out. What he and Anna would be embarking on was nothing less than sexual deviation. A perversion in the eyes of society. Hans would likely be blamed as the instigator. No man would look at Anna and see her as the mastermind behind it.

It was all rather exciting.

A grin slipped across his lips. She’d had no idea what she had really given him. What he had managed to take. Anna had wanted him to be hers, but he was the one who had gotten her. Without even trying, he had slipped in and taken her from another man. And she didn’t even realize it. Not yet. Probably never.

He had taken her time. He had taken her thoughts. He had taken her secrets. He had taken _her_. The fiancé had her body, but _he_ had her mind.

Hans had just won a competition he hadn’t known he’d wanted to be in. He was her dirty little secret, and because of that, he had effectively stolen her away from everyone she loved. He let that sink in, basking in a victory. Not a single one of his brothers had accomplished such a task.

When he was finally released and returned back home, he was going to have so much bragging to do. The infamy was going to be astounding. Maybe he’d even garner a reputation as a Lothario of sorts if he played his cards right. Rich, jaded women throwing themselves at him.

Seducing an innocent princess from his cell was such a scandalous and sordid thing. He could scarcely believe it had fallen right into his lap. Especially with it being Anna. _Anna_ , for crying out loud! After what he’d done to her, there should have been no way he’d get the chance to be near her again. To get back in.

_Anna_.

He liked that it was her. She’d always been quite fetching to him physically, and she had an affable personality to match. He liked the idea of seducing the same girl twice, and knowing that it was her made it all the sweeter. That even engaged to another man, a man the whole kingdom was touting as her true love, she had still come back to him. Back to woefully deficient and disappointing Hans.

Yes, he could play her games, entertain her, but he’d have to be careful. If it was too easy or he was too compliant, she was likely to get bored, but if he were the opposite, he ran the risk of frustrating her and making her doubt if he was worth the trouble. Either way, she would call the whole thing off. And he didn’t want that. Not when this was going to be the thing that saved him from his mundane existence…and quite honestly, was entertaining as hell.

He sighed. If only he’d known this part of Anna had existed sooner. Then he’d still be the fiancé, and he’d be the one marrying a woman that wouldn’t just lie like a lump in bed while they consummated their vows—the way all women of good standing were instructed to. He’d really missed the boat on that. She had the status and good reputation of a princess, with the imagination and vigor of a mistress.

_But then_ , he supposed, maybe there would have been no need for Anna to explore this version of herself and it would never have surfaced. And he would never have been imprisoned, which would mean he’d never know that he’d get aroused from flagellation. From her bossing him around. Dominating him.

All to tell him how good he was when it was over.

_God_ , did he ever like _that_.

His body shivered in unexpected excitement just thinking about it, his cock perking up. He slowly trailed his hand down his belly, stopping just before he teased himself over the fabric of his soft, wool trousers. _His_ trousers. Not some rough, itchy garb, poorly stitched and ill fitting.

It gave him pause.

Not the trousers he’d been forced to wear since he’d been jailed. His fingers curled into a fist, and he drew his hand away from his groin. He gave a low growl in frustration. Hating how he was suddenly at odds with himself over a pair of trousers.

Trousers he wouldn’t have back if it weren’t for Anna and her game. A game he had agreed to play. A game she had started by instructing him not to touch himself without her permission. She expected him to follow the rules. Follow her orders, even if she wasn’t here to oversee them. Did she really still see him as honourable?

_‘I won’t know, but you will. So, I guess that’s entirely up to you, isn’t it? Will you honour our arrangement or not? Seems a waste not to at least try.’_

He tucked his hands behind his head, debating…and needing to keep his hands restrained. She had left it up to him, which meant she probably didn’t expect him to follow her orders, like it was an impossible task. Hell, she probably wanted him to toss himself, just so she could get him to tell her the details later on. She didn’t want lies. What she wanted was to hear him say filthy things. Filthy truths.

Well, he’d beat her at her own game, and do exactly as she instructed. He wasn’t going to touch himself. She’d have to be pretty impressed with him then, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t unheard of for a man not to pleasure himself, didn’t monks and whatnot do that all the time? He simply had to refrain from getting aroused, and luckily imprisonment was the perfect environment for that. All he had to do was tame his thoughts and quell any desires. And he had a full storage of unhappy memories for that.

He kept his hands tucked behind his head and closed his eyes, ignoring the seductive heat of his loins and the ache that drifted though his body. He pushed pretty, strawberry blonde tresses and sparkling blue eyes out of his mind, supple skin and soft curves, freckles and blushes, wet lips and citrus scent, all of it, shoved it to the side and dredged out the first time his family had forgotten his birthday.

***

He was surly when awoken bright and early the next morning by the guard.

“Up and at ‘em!” the man barked, rapping his scabbard on the bars, the ringing of metal grinding on Hans’s ears.

Hans rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes, groggy and sour. No one ever woke him up. No one cared whether he ate breakfast hot or cold or at all. “What time is it?”

“Never you mind that! The princess has you on a schedule. You’re to be dressed and groomed before breakfast.”

Hans groaned, pulling himself up from his cot. No wonder he was tired. If he was to be dressed and groomed for his 7am breakfast… _God_ , what time was it?

There was no point in grumbling his displeasure aloud. It was best to just do as he was told, and follow his instructions. The guard charged with his care did not look pleased about Hans’s new schedule, and Hans knew well enough when to keep quiet and not cause trouble.

He was shackled and escorted back to the bathhouse where a morning shave and his clothing awaited him. He was dressed again in all his clothing but the topcoat and brought back to his cell for breakfast—real food again. And the aroma alone set his pulse racing. This time, hearty porridge, instead of watered-down muck, and with a large helping of fresh fruit and berries. He’d even been granted coffee.

Afterwards, he was given some quiet time for about an hour or so. He was then interrupted again to start a physical regiment because ‘ _the princess wanted him in peak physical condition starting today_ ’. Lunch followed. The afternoon had him set to work with menial tasks, busy work, most of which was commoner fair that he’d had no experience in, but did without complaint.

“The princess says ‘ _idle hands make for the devil’s tools_ ’,” the guard stated staunchly and Hans had to bite back a laugh.

Anna was keeping him busy on purpose. The little minx. She didn’t think he could do it. Go without touching himself. She was helping along, making the task easier for him.

The evening brought supper and much to his surprise, books. He’d not been given anything to read since he’d been imprisoned. The feel of a book in his hands, its weight, its clothed cover, a way to keep his mind preoccupied and off of her, was a godsend.

The titles she’d sent were unfamiliar to him, another godsend. Something he’d never read would keep his attention much better than something he’d read a dozen or so times. He thrilled, when upon opening the first book, he caught the light citrusy scent of Anna’s perfume. He’d not been given just any old books. He’d been given a selection of Anna’s personal collection of books. Which meant she’d carefully curated the titles for him to read.

One hundred and twenty-five pages into the first book with wide eyes, a blush and a raging hard on, he closed the book. Ladies of good standing were not supposed to own such salacious things, and he had to wonder how on earth Anna— _sweet, innocent Anna_ —had procured such items in the first place. He was desperately trying to ignore how worn and dog eared the pages were. _Well read_. The book belonged to Anna and had been well read.

Before his mind started to wander to fantasies of Anna, hair down, lying in bed, book in one hand with the other in between her thighs, he reached for the next book, ignoring how his fingers tremored. They couldn’t all be scandalous titles filled with explicit descriptions of sex, could they?

They were.

Each and every book she’d given him.

He cursed, pushing the last of the barely-read tomes aside. She’d done it on purpose.

_The little minx_.

He ended up jogging on the spot for a good twenty minutes, trying to eradicate his desire and keep his hands off.

Successfully making it past the first full day.

He’d beat her at her own game if it killed him.


	8. Chapter 8

It nearly did kill him. He was certain of it, at least in the first week of abstinence. As the month went on, however, it got easier. He’d woken up only once from a nocturnal emission. Something he hadn’t experienced since he’d been an adolescent. It was embarrassing to say the least, but he’d kept to his word and hadn’t touched himself, so it didn’t count…and had probably been his saving grace in making it to the end of the month.

Nobody had made any mention of it to him when his nightclothes had been taken away as part of his morning grooming. He liked to pretend no one had noticed, though the washer woman likely would have.

It was a blessing when the guards came to take him for his monthly lashes. It meant only one thing to him.

_Anna_.

He’d be seeing Anna today.

And he’d won.

She was already in the room when he arrived, and she looked different somehow. Perhaps because he’d learned about the lewd little details in her life. Did anyone else know about the books she kept? Her sister? Her fiancé? He doubted it. His body thrummed with heat at the very thought, his heart beating loudly in anticipation. He’d never been more ready for her. He had her secrets.

He tried to catch her eye, giving her a jaunty wink as the guards ushered him past her to the middle of the room. She didn’t notice, or if she did, she gave no response. Let her play coy. He rather liked it.

She watched him in silence, indifferent as his wrists were shackled. He could feel her eyes on him and he wondered if she was undressing him with her gaze as she’d done before in his cell. His pulse sped up, electricity running through his veins and into his bones.

She was going to ask him once the guards left, and he was going to have to school his response and expression well. She wouldn’t want to catch any smugness there. Perhaps a little…Anna might like to squash anything she perceived as him being smug.

“My lady,” he greeted once they were alone, trying to keep his voice light, teasing.

“You will not speak unless you’ve my permission, remember?”

“Yes, my lady.” He frowned. He’d forgotten about that, being preoccupied with other things.

She gave a satisfied nod, walking past him to the table laid out in flogging instruments. He twisted his head to try and catch a glimpse of her.

“Face forward,” she instructed. “That can’t be good straining your neck like that. We need you in peak condition.”

Hans did as he was told, mildly upset that she was hardly paying any attention to him at all. That she hadn’t even asked about whether he’d touched himself. He’d abstained for an entire month! And hadn’t she seen how aroused he was for her? How good he was at following her rules? She’d barely paid him any mind since he got here. Wasn’t she just as eager? Hadn’t she been wondering about him?

She was taking far too long to pick up a whip or a strap or a paddle or whatever it was she was thinking of using, and he was impatient. She had no idea what the days were like for him. How he’d been waiting for this.

He gave an exasperated sigh, wishing she’d just get on with it already. The anticipation was killing him. His cock ached; the front of his trousers uncomfortably damp from precum soaking through the wool.

“Stand still.” She sounded bored, her tone pricking at him. “I can’t think with you fidgeting like that.”

It was horrible being ignored. He instantly hated it. He’d thought he was accustomed to being neglected. Over half his life on the Southern Isles he’d been ignored, unseen. Worthless.

But this was somehow worse. Didn’t she know how hard it had been not to masturbate at all in her absence? He’d accomplished such a feat, and she didn’t even _care_. Hadn’t even bothered asking him about it. He’d followed her instructions to a tee. He’d beaten her at her attempt to make him cave in to lust. It had been an all-consuming task for him, while she had seemingly forgotten all about it. His chest ached in a way he was unfamiliar with.

He finally heard her move, and felt the heat of her body behind him. He inched closer to her.

“I told you to stand still.” She slapped whatever instrument she’d chosen against her palm. “If you can’t follow simple instructions—”

“—I can!” he immediately reassured.

She sighed heavily, as though he was testing her patience. “And now you’re speaking _and_ interrupting me.”

“I’m sor—”

_Whap_!

The pain was instantaneous and he gasped, sucking in air half in shock, half in pain. The sting on his bare back a surprise, he’d expected his clothed buttocks. She’d chosen the short cat o’ nine tails.

“I don’t hear you counting.”

“Sorry, I just—”

_Whap_!

“One,” he appeased, blinking back tears. “Two.”

Oh God, it _hurt_ , and his body tensed for the next strike.

He cried out involuntarily when the next three came in quick succession, but he tempered his breathing quickly to respond, “Three. Four. Five.”

He could do this. He could be obedient. He could take his punishment. What was his life on the Southern Isles if he couldn’t endure Anna’s punishments? He’d practically been bred for this.

_Whap_! _Whap_! _Whap_!

“S-six.” He shuddered, his back searing in pain while his cock throbbed. She tapped her foot expectantly and he finished, barely able to get the next few numbers past his trembling lips, “Seven…eight.”

“Such good counting,” she cooed as her open palm slipped onto his buttocks, rubbing the closest cheek in a soft, teasing motion. He felt faint; her hand too sweet a sensation. “So obedient.” Her palm trailed over his bottom, rubbing him harder, her fingers pressing down along his crease, sending a forbidden shiver down his spine.

He found himself pressing up against her roving hand, matching her rhythm, the damp spot on the front of his trousers growing wider as his desire began to spread. It was such a strange feeling to switch from pain to pleasure. The two opposite sensations going hand in hand in slowly undoing him. Not wanting one without the other.

Her hand slipped further down his crease, pressing dangerously close to forbidden territory as her fingers slid in between his thighs. She cupped his balls from behind, squeezing him roughly through the fabric of his trousers, making him groan at the intense pressure. Any harder and it would hurt…and he wasn’t entirely sure he would mind if it did.

Her other hand caught him off guard, sneaking around his torso, her fingers light and roving, working open a button on his fall front while her other hand continued to squeeze his balls, forcing his moan.

“Oh my,” she breathed. “Do you like that?”

His mouth had gone dry, words sticking in his throat, only able to nod in response.

_Yes. A thousand times yes_.

She pulled her hands away, stopping everything.

It was torture. Instant and pure torture. Unlike any he’d ever known.

“Show me you can count.”

And the next lash of the whip went stinging across his back.

“Nine!” he answered immediately, desperate to have her hands back on him. He could play her game. It was _Anna_ , for crying out loud. He could follow her orders. He just had to focus. He knew he could, her lashes hurt, but were hardly anything compared to those of the guards. Hans reminded himself again, rather sternly, that he could do this. All he was required to do was count. She had made it too easy. Make it to twenty-five, and Anna would _reward_ him.

His cock twitched uncomfortably, pressing against his half-undone trousers, aching for release. It was an infuriating sensation. He wanted nothing more than to be free of the fabric, but at the same time, enjoying the frustrating friction the trousers provided.

The whip came down five more times and he counted with confidence. Anna would like that. His quick, even responses. Not stumbling over numbers or miscounting like last time had to be impressing her. He was doing exactly as she’d asked, and doing it perfectly.

He couldn’t help but smile in pride. This was ridiculously simple now that he had figured out to keep focused on the numbers and just complete the task at hand. If he ignored the pleasure, ignored the pain, and just paid attention to the numbers, she’d have to touch him again.

He heard her place the whip back on the table, moments before her hand was back to palming his ass, and he trembled at the pleasant contact. His mind swimming in bliss at such a humble touch.

“Look at you,” she trilled, and he couldn’t help but beam at her words. “So orderly, so proficient. Perhaps we should undo another button?”

Hans opened his mouth to reply, but caught himself before a sound came out. This was also a test, he realized. She hadn’t given him permission to speak. He swallowed down his answer, waiting. The soft chuckle from her lips was music to his ears.

“Good boy. You’re a quick study, aren’t you?”

His chest swelled in self-satisfaction at her praise, his pride soaring, his cock itching, his nerves on fire. He was being so good, and she was so impressed, he could tell. Her hand drifted from his buttocks, across his hip bone and towards his groin. Her touch so light, it made him ticklish and he squirmed. He had won, she was going to touch _him_.

He bit down on his lip, trying to steady his breathing, his excitement, as her other arm reached around him and her torso pressed in to his back. Her breasts soft and warm on his skin, even through her clothing, and _ohhhh_ , it had been _so long_ since he’d had anyone touch him.

His cock lurched with need; her breath heated against his skin, making the hairs stand on end in delight. Definitely not helping his sanity. Nor was the pace she was moving at. She was taking too long with that button, her fingers barely a whisper of a touch on his stomach.

He clenched his fists in frustration, the iron around his wrists never more constricting, never more prominent. If his hands were free…

The fall front fell away and he gave a shuddering breath of relief as his cock sprang forth into the open air, her fingers just above his eager manhood, undoing the placket of modesty panel buttons from the bottom. Each button taking way too long to undo with the light brush of her fingers teasing his coarse curls, driving him mad.

It was a testament to his discipline that he stayed stock still for her, because all he wanted to do was rub himself up on her and hump her hand like a dog. An embarrassing thought.

“There. That feels better, doesn’t it?” she said as his trousers slipped off his hips and down his legs with a little urging from her.

He was almost at the point of begging her to touch him, but he bit down his pleas, only nodding in response. He would not mess this up. He could be obedient. He could.  He could weather her attentions and not say a word until allowed.

“You certainly earned a bit of comfort.” Anna gripped his cock firmly, her small fist tight around his shaft.

He groaned on contact, surprised at her bravado, but nonetheless appreciative of it. He’d almost forgotten what a woman’s touch could feel like. And Anna’s touch was something else. There was no doubt he was going to enjoy this. Excitement and anticipation shot through him like a drug, knowing she was going to draw this out. He’d not counted to twenty-five yet, and she was only just beginning their play.

Her hand moved along his length, stopping to tease his head and slick her fingers up with precum before sliding her fist back down his shaft. Her skill was incredible, and he sighed in content, pleasure mounting.

Only when she began to pump her fist, drawing her hand up over his head did he realize it was too much. Her hand was too goddamned much, and before he could say or do anything, he’d lost control, his body shuddering in early and unexpected bliss. He grunted and bucked against his will, his body too sensitive, his orgasm tearing through him before they’d even started.

Anna drew in a sharp breath as his seed spilled quite quickly into her palm. Her hand was off of him almost instantly, and Hans stood there fighting the last tremors of pleasure, completely and utterly mortified. She had barely touched him and he came.

Everything he’d worked so hard for, gone in a matter of seconds. Heat rose to his cheeks and ears. His pride taking an instant nosedive as unbearable shame seeped in. If he were a dog, his tail would be tucked in between his legs.

The silence was deafening.

If there was one thing to be thankful for, it was that he didn’t have to see the disgust on Anna’s face. See her disappointment in him.

But he could hear it. Oh, he could hear it.

“What is this?” she demanded, and he involuntarily cringed.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry, _what_?” she clipped sharply.

“My lady.” Oh God, he was making it worse. One mistake and he was now screwing up everything, forgetting all the rules. And he’d been doing so good too. How could he mess up something so simple? It wasn’t like any of this had been hard. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“Then _whose_ fault is it?”

Hans froze. The error in his words far too late to fix. _Shit. Shit. Shit!_ There was only two of them here, and if he was saying it wasn’t his fault…

“I meant…I just…my…my lady,” _Stop panicking_. “It’s just I haven’t been with a woman in ages, and on top of that, you had me under strict orders not to be tou—”

“—Did I ask you for excuses?” she asked tersely, and it was like a slap in the face.

“No, my lady.” And it stung to make such an admission.

She stepped out from behind him and stood directly in front of him, dipping to a crouch. She wiped her soiled hand off on his trousers, her expression one of sheer annoyance. This was a disaster.

“You know what I think?” she began, her voice cold and crisp as she continued to wipe her hand off. “I think the fault _is_ yours. I think you lack self-control and manners. I think you’re arrogant and cocky. Always so self assured and proud, but you’re also just a puppy. A big, stupid, overly eager puppy with no training. No obedience, and no discipline.”

“ _A puppy_?” he echoed incredulously, briefly forgetting his place and thoroughly insulted by such an accusation. He’d been called a lot of things by women in his lifetime, but never had he ever been compared to something so insulting as a _baby dog_.

She ignored his outburst and finished cleaning off her hand. She looked up at him. “Yes, a puppy. Easily excitable, so goddamned proud of yourself, jumping up onto laps and licking faces without any regard for anyone but yourself.”

Pride wounded, he snapped, “If I’m an ill-behaved _puppy_ , then perhaps it’s the trainer at fault!” And he instantly regretted it.

Anna’s face went dark with anger, she stood up rather abruptly and turned on her heel, walking briskly towards the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice rising.

“Back up to my life,” she answered with an edge to her voice. “I’ve no patience for _ill-behaved puppies_ today.”

“My trousers are still down!” he cried. “You can’t leave me like this! The guards—”

“—Are not my problem.”

His eyes widened in horror. She was mad enough to leave him here naked.

“ _Anna!_ ” he pleaded. “For God’s sake! You can’t let them see me like this! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I can behave, just let me try again—”

“No. I’m done with you for today. You can try again next month.”

He gaped at her. “ _Next month?_ ”

Silence. She was ignoring him.

He’d blown it and he knew it. He heaved a defeated sigh. “Can you at least pull my trousers up?”

She stopped at the door, contemplating. And for a moment he didn’t think she’d do it, but she turned around and walked back to him, tugging his trousers back up, her touch rough and jarring. The rather large wet spot on the crotch was cold and clammy against his spent cock. God, he’d forgotten about the precum that had soaked through…the guards would see…

“Please, my lady,” he begged, looking as sorry as he could, hoping to catch her favour and repair the damage his outburst had caused. “My trousers are still wet.”

He could not endure facing the guards again in another state of sexual embarrassment. Last time with his erection had been bad enough, but now? He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t do it. Pervert, they’d called him. And echoes from his adolescence had resurfaced. _Pervert_.

He felt ill.

“Why do you care so much about the guards seeing you? They’ve already seen you aroused. It’s not like anyone knows we did anything on purpose.”

“They called me a pervert last time.” He was surprised to hear his voice answer with the shameful truth so quickly. He hadn’t even thought to lie or remain silent.

“So?”

Something so raw to him had so little effect on her, reminding him of how very different his life had been to hers.

“So, I’m not.”

She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing for a moment. “Good bye, Hans. We’ll try again next month.”

And she left.

He stood there, shackled in silence. She’d _left_ him. Just like that. It hadn’t quite sunk in. Any minute, the guards would be in here. They’d see him, seed damp on his trousers—the humiliation of a lifetime. _Pervert, pervert, pervert_ , and the reproachful tones of the guards would turn into the awful taunts of his brothers. He wanted to curse Anna, to lay all the blame at her feet for the shame he was about to endure, but he knew he could have easily stopped it.

If he had really wanted to.

He could have said their word and stopped it, but he hadn’t. He’d always been the one in charge, hadn’t he? Anna had given him that power. Anna didn’t leave him like this. He’d _let her_ leave him like this, because deep down he knew he deserved it. He deserved to be thoroughly humiliated. He’d failed. Tripped at the finish line. Deserved to be degraded.

He wanted to cry, which was absolutely ridiculous. Hans hadn’t cried since he was a child. He blinked back the first little prick of tears with a sniff. He wouldn’t start now. He was a prince, a Westergaard, born from a great and noble line. And such lineage did not show weakness and cry. No. He’d brought this on himself, and he’d face the music like a man, bracing as the door opened.

“You’re lucky, you know,” she said as she came back into the room, closing the door behind her. “You really don’t know any better, do you? You are just a puppy, after all.”

He nodded in silence; relief mixed with embarrassment as she approached. So demeaning to feel gratitude towards her. _Her_. Stupid, willful, woefully naïve Anna. What did she even really know of the world to sweep in and be his saviour?

But she was right, and that had upset him most of all. He’d lost, and she had won.

He was a puppy. A green boy. He’d underestimated her. A mistake he vowed not to make again.

Hans had not expected her mercy. He thought he’d really angered her, but he should have known better. He hated just how unpredictable she was. Hated that he’d forgotten that about her.

She stood before him, all commanding and calm. “I’ll stay until they are dry, unless you move or speak, understand?”

He nodded obediently.

She patted his cheek, and that soft touch of her hand was like heaven. “There’s a good boy. It’s just that you’re weak. We’ll fix that.”

And he hated how much he needed her praise even when it was followed with disappointment. With pity. He seethed in silence when she walked away from him, moving to somewhere in the room behind him. Where he couldn’t see her. Hating how easily she could ignore him while he was so aware of her and every breath or movement she made. Every sound.

_Next month_ , he told himself firmly. Next month, he’d show her.


	9. Chapter 9

Kristoff had come quickly from her attentions before. Not as quickly as Hans had though. That had been something else. He’d surprised her, that was for sure.

She’d finally gotten up the nerve to actually touch his cock, to feel that thick, magnificent length hot in her hand. Her heart had leapt straight into her stomach on contact. He’d been incredible to touch. So smooth that he’d felt like the richest of velvets, and she could have stroked him for ages revelling in the feel of him. Firm, slick with heat, enticing in her palm, the way his foreskin slipped easily back, revealing not only his desire but also that delectable head that tempted her tongue to taste. The musky scent of his sex hanging heavy in the air, intoxicating her senses, reminding her again what a dangerous game she was playing.

Her cunt responded to him immediately, an instinct her body simply knew. Her folds wet and ready, tingling with a need so great she didn’t think she’d ever be able to fill it on her own alone in her room.

She’d thought for sure she was going to lose her nerve and let go of him, because she wasn’t supposed to like the look and feel of another man’s equipment over her own fiancé’s. She wasn’t even supposed to know what another man looked and felt like.

Not once had she thought Hans would spill within seconds of her touch. She wasn’t _that_ experienced in pleasuring men. Perhaps she had expected too much of him. He’d displayed so much control that first time in his cell that she’d overestimated his abilities.

It couldn’t have worked better in her favour. He’d been so irritatingly cocky when he’d been brought to her. Like he somehow held something over her. Like she was supposed to fall for his charms again. It was nice to see him brought down a few notches, thanks to his own undoing. He really was his own worst enemy. If he hadn’t been Hans, she would have felt sorry for him.

As it was, she was gloating to herself. Their session had been successful enough, despite taking an unexpected turn. He certainly didn’t see it that way, but he’d learn. She’d come away with something very important. She held power over him, whether he liked it or not. _She_ excited him. Excited him enough to spend almost instantaneously. And that was valuable information. She could use that.

The best part was that there was no way he could hide his desire for her from her. It was flattering really, the more she thought about it. To be that desirable to a man like Hans that he’d toss himself after so few strokes.

Seeing him utterly humiliated after such an act had been bliss. Poetic justice, seeing as how he hadn’t wanted her back then, when she had wanted him, when he’d lied, when he’d hurt her so badly, only to end up wanting her attentions now. She couldn’t help but feel smug, superior about it.

He was angry too; she had seen it there in his eyes. That spark of outrage centered around his own failings. His pride wounded. She didn’t doubt that he blamed her, and she had fully anticipated his outrage. His words having little effect on her, like the barking of a dog.

But then, he had done something rather strange.

He’d let her humiliate him further. He’d let her leave. Of course, she’d never really had any intention of leaving him like that for the guards to see. She didn’t think he knew that, but it was Hans, so maybe he did.

Still, it was a hell of a risk for him to take. She’d heard the panic in his voice, seen the fear on his face. He absolutely had not wanted to be seen by the guards, and yet he had not ended anything. She had expected to hear ‘sextant’ on his lips the moment her hand was on the doorknob. He hadn’t said a word. He’d taken his punishment. Oh, he was angry and upset about it, but he had not stopped her. He’d pushed it.

The question was why? What could he possibly get from facing the guards?

She knew he didn’t want to see them. And he’d told her why.

They’d called him a pervert the last time. Such a silly, little thing for him to be upset about. What did he care what the guards thought of him? And surely he’d been called worse things than that. So why was that name the one that got under his skin?

She drummed her fingers on the pages of the human physiology book she’d been searching through. Pausing to think further on why Hans had acted the way he had. It went against what she had thought of him. There was something in that word. He really didn’t like it, but he had been willing to endure it again. She’d have to think on how she could use that later.

Right now, she had other pressing business.

As fun as it had been to see Hans come prematurely, she couldn’t have him doing that all the time. They would never get anywhere if he did. The problem was, she had no idea how to fix that issue without going back on her rules. One, it was a sign of weakness, and two, she had meant each rule, and intended to stick to them. That was how she would gain her control, especially in the beginning. By having what he wanted, and by giving it to him when he was worthy.

She had gone straight to the palace library after she’d left Hans, intent on finding an answer to his current problem. Without any books detailing this sort of scenario, Anna was resigned to medical books. Leafing through the massive texts, hoping to find something she could use. How frustrating that she didn’t have access to the information she needed. She knew if she were able to talk discreetly with a mistress or a lady of the evening, she would get a solution much quicker.

But again, she was on her own, left to her own devices, knowledge and imagination. Armed with determination and medical books…and a plate of cookies to munch on while she did her research.

She stopped in mid chew, mouth full of cookie, reading the page header. Male sexual anatomy. Male reproductive organs. She tilted her head, studying the illustrated plates of anatomical diagrams, all neatly labeled. Grinning when she found something useful. ‘ _An affliction of premature ejaculation can be remedied with restricting the blood flow to the penis at the scrotum and base of the penis._ ’ That was interesting. She could work with that.

She continued on with her reading even after finding an answer, rather fascinated with the male reproductive organs, and what else she could possibly use to her advantage. Her eyebrows rose when she moved into ‘ _other erectile afflictions_ ’, amused to learn about prostrate stimulation through the rectum to encourage erection and spending. She wished more had been written about that. The idea of testing Hans out in that area—

“There you are.”

Anna jumped at the sound of Kristoff’s voice, her hand leaping off the page, knocking the book shut.

“Kristoff!” she shrilled, bits of cookie tumbling down her shirt.

He sniggered. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He ventured closer to the table she was sitting at, peering curiously at her reading materials. He wrinkled his nose before giving her a mischievous grin. “You’re actually reading something worthwhile? I admit, I’m shocked.”

Anna stared at him, stunned. His words meant to tease, but igniting her ire. _Worthwhile?_

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked a little defensively.

“No offense.” He scratched the back of his head, rather unaware. “It’s just…well, you’ve never struck me as much of an intellectual reader, that’s all.”

Her lip curled. _That’s all?_ She loved reading. She read all sorts of things, fiction, non-fiction… How did he not know that? She’d spent half of the ice harvest with him reading a variety of books.

“What made you think that?”

“I just thought it was something, you’d—you know, find boring. I mean, you’re not like your sister at all, she’s the intellectual type.”

Anna stiffened. “The intellectual type?”

Kristoff seemed oblivious to her ire, digging himself a deeper hole. “You know, quiet, introverted, thoughtful. You’re much livelier, louder, impulsive. She reads in depth prose and philosophy, you read your silly little romances.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

Anna frowned at that. So what if she enjoyed reading fictional tales of love? That didn’t mean she was frivolous and dimwitted. That didn’t mean Elsa was smarter than her. It just meant they were different.

“I love to read all sorts of things,” she answered indignantly.

He blanched, his eyes widening. “I didn’t mean it like that! God, sorry, that came out all wrong. I didn’t mean for it to sound like you were stupid or something. I just meant that you’re more unbiased in your tastes for a princess, especially in comparison to your sister.”

“Don’t you like to read?” she asked, wanting to switch the conversation away from anymore unintended slights, and dreading falling into another reminder of how Elsa was superior to her.

He laughed at that, looking more relaxed. “Not really, no. I hardly read at all. What’s the point when life is all around you?” He spread his arms out wide, gesturing to the space around them. “Why keep squirreled away with your nose in a book when the world is waiting?”

“To learn things, to immerse myself in stories. Plenty of reasons.” She thought back to all the countless books she’d read. How reading had been a defense against crippling loneliness. How some books she’d read over and over until the pages were dog earned and soft with use. Her favourite romances, her favourite tales of adventure, her favourite botanical guides, her favourite poems.

He’d apologized for his earlier comment, but it stung that he’d thought she didn’t read things of value. More so, that while he was inadvertently insulting her, he’d compared her to Elsa again, and put Elsa in the better light. An annoyance she quickly tucked away, ignoring her raised hackles.

He hadn’t meant it like that. He’d even said so. Sometimes Kristoff just didn’t think before he spoke. It wasn’t like she had never been guilty of doing that herself.

“You surprise me daily, you know that?” he said fondly. “Always something new with you.”

 _You surprise me too_ , she thought, less fondly. Another reminder of just how different Kristoff was to what she had always envisioned was the perfect match for her.

Guess she could scratch reading together by the fireplace in the evenings off her list of marital bliss. There would be no sharing of their favourite stories, because Kristoff didn’t see the point of it. Oh, he’d listen politely to her revel over a story, but it wouldn’t be the same.

She heaved a sigh, her chest tightening at the thought.

Kristoff didn’t notice her melancholy and sat down in the empty chair across the table, helping himself to one of her cookies without asking. She gritted her teeth the moment he began to chew. Instantly diverting her attention elsewhere, anywhere but his mouth.

“Why are you reading that anyway?” he asked, bits of cookie spewing from his mouth and landing on the book cover.

She wiped the book off with her sleeve, and he looked embarrassed. She tried to sound lighthearted and carefree instead of annoyed. He was trying, and she couldn’t fault him that. The least she could do was sound civil.

“Because it’s interesting, and I’m learning about new things.”

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “I doubt that very much. Looks boring beyond all reason.” He reached for her hand, grinning. “Come on, my little physician. I can teach you everything you’d want to know about anatomy. When’s the last time we’ve had a moment to ourselves? Let’s not waste it with books.”

She let him lead her by the hand, doubting very much that Kristoff could satisfy that promise. Still, it had been awhile since they’d done anything together this past month. He’d been busy working, while Anna had been busy learning how to use whips properly.

Connecting with Kristoff would be good, especially after his careless words. She needed that reminder that he loved her. That she loved him. That this was true love. That they were meant to be.

But as their day continued on into night, even after the kisses, even after the groping, Anna couldn’t seem to light her heart aflame for him. She tried, furiously tried to feel even a smidgen of desire, of want, but for some reason, she could never seem to muster more than a genial affection for him. Always reminding herself that she was in love with him. She had to be.

***

The next morning, she saw Kristoff off for his next ice harvest, and made polite conversation with Elsa at breakfast. Her sister was busy with royal affairs for most of the day, leaving Anna’s schedule open and to herself.

She decided to go to the dungeon. Playing with Hans was the best way to cope with her feelings on Kristoff the night before. She tied a ribbon in her hair before grabbing a few things she’d need, and headed down to see him. She’d be killing two birds with one stone today.

When she arrived, Hans was finishing his own breakfast, neatly dabbing a napkin to his lips and looking up at her in surprise. He immediately rose to a stand and bowed his head as if to say, ‘my lady’. Something Kristoff never did when she entered a room. The connection jarred her.

“You’ve permission to speak,” she said. “I want to hear your voice today.”

“My lady, you grace me with your presence earlier than I’d expected.”

“You shouldn’t expect anything.”

“So I’m starting to learn.”

“Do you enjoy reading?” she asked abruptly. She wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries with Hans. She was here on her own agenda. She didn’t have to be polite with him.

“Yes, of course.”

“Did you read the books you were sent?”

He choked back a laugh. “Not very extensively…or as often as _my lady_ has, I’m afraid.”

She stared at him, caught off guard. “What makes you so sure I’ve read them?”

“They’re yours, aren’t they?”

“Answer the question.”

“The _well read_ pages smell like you.” A soft smile crept across his lips as though he was recalling a fond memory. “The pages are seeped in your scent, it proved…distracting.”

His answer startled her. He could recognize her scent? She absently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, feeling a little embarrassed and a little flattered. “That’s very astute of you.”

“I am curious where you obtained such riveting literature.”

“I don’t owe you an answer,” she stated firmly, surprised he’d asked. “But if you must know, I snuck down to the harbour a few years ago when the Kongsberg merchants were docked. I’d read about Kongsberg and its… _riveting literature_ and wanted to see it for myself. I…” Her cheeks reddened; she couldn’t believe she was actually telling him all this. Her secrets, the things Elsa would be horrified to learn, the things Kristoff would mock and tease her for. She wouldn’t tell him the whole of the story. Not what else she had purchased that day. “I even wore a servant’s dress and bonnet that I stole from a clothes line.”

He laughed at that. “I should not be surprised by your boldness, and yet I am.”

“I bought a copy of everything they had.” She laughed nervously; the rest of the story silent on the tip of her tongue. “Did you enjoy them?”

“I admit I had to skip over a fair amount. If my lady remembers, you did instruct me to refrain from touching myself unless permitted to.”

“So…you found them titillating?”

“That’s a polite word for it.”

“Go pick one,” she said softly. “Your favourite. Then I’d like you to read it aloud to me.”

He kept her gaze a touch too long before answering, but she held his eye, ignoring the pleasant warmth that spread in her loins. How the heat in his stare seemed to unlock something deep within her.

She watched those peridot green eyes as he spoke slowly, “As you wish, my lady.”

He broke eye contact first, turning his attention to the books, giving her a moment to find her bearings and brush off the strange moment. He picked one quickly, and she noted silently that it was _her_ favourite. Whether it was his favourite or just the one he’d grabbed first, she wouldn’t know. She was never quite sure with Hans, and doubted she ever would be.

He sat down on his cot, facing her, and she sat down on the dungeon floor, leaning her back against the cool stone wall, facing him. He’d barely sat down before he was up again, grabbing his pillow and shoving it through the bars at her. “Can’t have you sitting on the hard floor.”

She took his pillow, cushioning it under her bottom. She didn’t thank him, nor did he appear to expect it. Thanking him would be akin to making him her equal.

He began to read, his voice smooth and steady, and she wanted to close her eyes and get lost in his voice, lost in the familiar story, but that wasn’t why she was here. Instead, she focused her attention on him, studying his body language, waiting for the words and his brain to trigger arousal. She sat quietly, watching him.

Occasionally, he’d look up from the page and meet her eye, and she’d catch a nervousness in his gaze. A fleeting thing, really, then he’d lick his lips and continue on. When he reached the racier parts of the story, his voice dipped to a smoky timbre, often catching as though he shouldn’t be saying such things aloud and in her presence. He shifted slightly, repositioning himself on his cot as though he were uncomfortable.

“Put the book down and come here,” she instructed, reaching up to untie the ribbon from her hair. He did as he was told, standing before her at the bars. “Slowly take off all of your clothes.”

She watched him swallow hard, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yes, my lady.”

His fingers worked his buttons loose slowly in a careful practice, shedding each layer of his clothes with a tempered anxiousness. She could tell he was trying to control his excitement, but his very prominent hard on more than betrayed him.

“Very good, now I want you to come closer and grip the bars with your hands. You are not to move them unless I say so.”

“Yes, my lady.” His voice thick.

She smiled. “Good boy.” His cock twitched at the praise, and she silently noted it. “You are to look straight ahead. Nowhere else.”

His jaw ticked, but he nodded.

“And slow your breathing.” She giggled. He really was overexuberant when aroused. “You’d think you’d just ran circles around the courtyard instead of reading a book.”

He flushed. “Sor-sorry.”

She reached through the bars and grazed his thigh with affection. “Such a big puppy.” He sighed in response, and she continued, “Come closer, hips against the bars, cock sticking through. I promise I won’t bite.”

“And if I want you to?” he murmured, dreamlike. Her eyes shot upwards to his face to see him staring straight ahead like he’d been told, but looking absolutely mortified. She grinned. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“That’s not up to you, is it?”

“No, my lady.”

She took the hair ribbon and drew it up under his balls and up around the base of his cock, looping the ends and pulling the ribbon tight against his skin. His entire body jerked in response as though she’d slapped him.

“Too tight or, just right? You should be able to feel pressure, but it shouldn’t be painful.”

“Just right,” he whispered, his body swaying slightly.

“Good.” She finished tying the ribbon, deciding to loop it around in a pretty bow instead of a knot. She rocked back on her heels admiring her work, and how his already large member now looked massive, ruddier and engorged. It was almost criminal. Her cunt throbbed at the sight, clenching in want. “Still staring straight ahead, I want you to take your dominant hand and stroke your cock. Do not touch the ribbon. Stroke until you’re just about to come then stop. You are not allowed to come.”

“Yes, my lady.” His hand moved to his manhood, stroking gently. “Is this…” He paused. “Is this because of earlier…when I…” His voice trailed off; his jaw grounded tight, cheeks flaming, unable to say the words. His humiliation over yesterday still apparent.

“Ejaculated prematurely?” she finished bluntly for him, slipping a hidden pocket watch from her sleeve to time him. “Yes, puppy.”

“I don’t normally—”

“—Is it really that upsetting for you?” she asked, fascinated by how frail the male ego could be.

He opened his mouth then closed it, then opened it again. “Of course, it’s upsetting! I’m not some inexperienced little twit, I’m perfectly capable of—”

“—You’re cute when you bark needlessly,” she teased, delighted in how defensive he sounded. “But none of this is really your current task, is it? I want you to almost come, not lose an erection.”

His face went even redder, almost purple, but he shut up. The colour matching his cock. She’d put him in his place rather effectively, and enjoyed her triumph quietly.

He continued to work himself, finally finding a rhythm he liked, and Anna silently watched him, mesmerized by the way his body moved. The way his facial expressions would shift between acute tension to blissful relaxation. The way he’d gasp or bite his lower lip, the way his brows would knit together in exertion—he was truly a sight to behold.

Hans carried on this way for awhile and Anna glanced down at the watch. He was doing good.

Suddenly, he drew in a sharp breath, startling her, and breaking his rhythm. “I’m close!”

Worried he’d spend like last time, Anna reached out and stopped his hand, grabbing him by the wrist. At her touch, he let go of his throbbing cock with a small whimper, his breathing laboured.

“Hand back on the bar,” she ordered, tucking the pocket watch back up her sleeve.

He gulped down air, his eyes wild, and a bit dazed, but he obeyed. His hand back to clutching the bar.

She leaned over and pulled one of the ends of the ribbon, untying his cock in one swift movement. He hissed as the ribbon fell away from him; his knuckles white on the bars.

“You can lose your erection now,” she said.

He blinked stupidly for a moment, before his hand moved from the bar towards his groin.

“Un uh.” She wagged her finger at him, chiding, “I didn’t say you could move your hand, and I didn’t say you could come.”

He moved his hand slowly back to hold the bar, a confused frown wrinkling his brow. “I don’t underst—”

“—I want you flaccid. It’s not hard, puppy.” She snickered at her own joke combined with the slow realization on his face as to what she wanted.

He scowled in annoyance, as if her request was unreasonable. “I can’t just will it to go away. It doesn’t work like that. It takes time.”

“We have the time. Do whatever it is you do to get rid of it. I’ll wait.”

He stared at her, his expression one of faint surprise, and Anna realized she’d need to entertain herself with something other than him while he worked at getting rid of his erection. She busied herself with the stitching on her sleeve, keeping her eyes off of him.

When he was soft, she had him go sit back on his cot. “Resume reading aloud to me, where you left off.”

Wordlessly, he picked up the novel, his eyes on her, his face suspicious. He’d not quite figured out this game of hers yet, and she could almost see his mind furiously working to solve it, trying to catch up and find his advantage.

“Well?”

His eyes darted from her to the page and he began to read. It was much easier this time to study his arousal with him naked. When his cock started to perk up from the words again, she hurried him along.

“You’re quite big, aren’t you?”

He stumbled over the sentence he was reading, his erection fully formed and poker stiff in a matter of seconds.

One thing Anna knew for certain was that men simply adored having their manhood complimented as large. She supposed a large member meant a man was much more virile and desired. Honestly, she’d never had one to know. She did know she liked the look of Hans’s cock and liked imagining what such a length and girth would be like inside her, she just didn’t much like that such a magnificent piece was attached to a man such as Hans.

“Same instructions as before. Put the book down and come here.”

He was at the bars in a flash. She rolled her eyes. Always so eager when it came to his prick. She wondered if he realized just how pathetically keen he was for her. She couldn’t have found a more perfect way to lord power over him.

She tied his cock again with the ribbon and had him pleasure himself before her, again timing him with the pocket watch, pleased when his time increased. Even more pleased by the frustrated growl he made when it was ‘hands off, and go soft’ time. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead.

Twice now, he’d been to the brink and back with no relief, and the irritation was beginning to show on his face and behaviour.

He obeyed her commands, but begrudgingly and quiet, like a child pouting over no dessert. His eyes angry and defiant. He thought she was punishing him for yesterday’s mistake, instead of training him from it. Even his tone of voice as she sent him back to his cot to read aloud to her was sharper.

She ran him through the routine two more times before he broke. By the fourth denied orgasm, he was a mess. From his aggravated outburst of “no!” followed immediately by desperate begging—which she ignored—she had quite enough information and was pleased with the results of her little test. The ribbon worked.

He looked like he was going to cry when she made him sit back down and read to her one final time. She was certain he loathed himself right now, constantly being aroused, his body caving in to her commands when all he wanted was to climax. The look on his face was one of sheer agony when his cock rose yet again.

He was shaking with need, refusing to move from his cot right away, his face crestfallen when she called him over to the bars one last time. She had to coax him, baby him gently, and ever so slowly, he pulled himself up from his cot and came to meet her at the bars.

A small sob escaped his throat as she pulled the ribbon around his cock and tied it snug. “Let’s switch things up, shall we?” She stood up to meet his eyes, and flashed a little vial in front of his face.

He frowned. “What is that?”

“Oil.”

His eyes went wide and panicked.

“No!” he objected. “You can’t! I won’t last with that on my hand! You know damn well I won’t!”

She unstopped the stopper and held her open palm up, pouring the oil into her hand and making a show of it so he could see clearly. “Then it’s a good thing it’s not on _your_ hand.”

He gaped at her, struck stupid as she reached down and grabbed his cock, keeping her eyes locked on his while counting silently in her head, keeping the time.

“ _Oh_ _fuck_!” he gasped as she slid her greased up fist over his length. His mouth opened wider as he sucked in ragged breaths of air as though he was dying, every muscle in his body going rigid in an attempt to stave off pleasure. Fighting it with every ounce of strength he had.

She’d never heard a man moan as loud or as long, the sound thrilling to her ears. His eyes squeezed shut and he writhed, his hands gripping the cell bars for dear life.

“Open your eyes, puppy. I want them on mine,” she cooed softly. “You need to learn that if you succeed or fail today, it’s while looking me in the eye.”

He sobbed with a deep, shuddering breath, gulping down air, and forced his eyes open to meet hers. The despairing plea hidden in that sea of dreamy green was absolutely delectable. Addictive. His eyes had never been prettier.

“This is a tough lesson for you to learn, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he breathed, and she was surprised he could even form the word to answer. She squeezed him harder, and he cried out a moan of sheer ecstasy. “I can’t—”

“Of course, you can,” she encouraged, the seconds and minutes still ticking in her head. He was almost there, almost surpassing his record time. She increased her speed. “Move your hips to it, puppy, let me see you really enjoy it.”

He shook his head furiously. “I’m too close!” The sound of true agony, music to her ears. He barely sounded human.

“Chase it, chase that pleasure, you know you want to.”

“ _Oh God!_ ” he groaned as his hips began to move in tandem with her fist. “ _My lady_!” His voice broke into harried gasps and whimpers as he bucked his hips harder, fucking her hand none the wiser that she’d been timing him and that he’d beaten his record.

With her free hand, she sharply pulled the ribbon loose, her voice stern and commanding, “Come for me.”

And he did.

He stared at her, those beautiful green eyes trained on hers as his body gave way to pleasure, convulsing and jerking, his mouth making sounds that would make a harlot blush. Pupils dilated, nearly erasing the ring of green. His facial expression one a mixture of untamed passion, pleasure, and pure relief. Streams of his release splashing hot on her skirt. His body shuddered for a good few minutes afterwards. Amazing her. He’d been stunning to watch. A vision of beauty.

When he finished, his body sagged forward against the bars as though he was nothing but a rag doll, the stuffing pulled out of him. His chest heaved, panting for breath, beads of sweat dripping from his brow down his cheek bone. He looked at her as though she was the divine light.

“That was incredible,” he rasped, his voice unsteady.

“Now there’s a good boy.” She smiled, pleased, patting him lightly on the head. “You’re positively adorable when you come on command.”

He blushed, but his eyes sparkled and lip quirked upwards. “Not _your_ good boy?”

Still so cheeky. She was surprised to discover she rather liked it.

She cupped his chin firmly with her hand, tipping his face to hers. “Not yet, puppy, but there is potential.”

He couldn’t contain his grin or his pride at her words and beamed. His face shining. She turned away from him, afraid she’d match his excitement. What they had just done…it had been phenomenal. She had felt so connected to him, and yet still in control. Cords of electricity zipped between them. She’d had him in agony, and yet he was determined to make her proud of him. He performed astronomically today. It had been a rousing success.

“I’ll have the guards bring you some water, you must be thirsty.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He hadn’t left from the bars; his body still limp against the iron, lounging in content.

“Get some rest,” she said, calmly trying to quell her own arousal. “You’ve earned your downtime today.”

 _And I’ve got to go earn mine_.

She couldn’t wait to get back to her room.


	10. Chapter 10

Compared to his older brothers, Hans was not an experienced lover. He was by no means green—he was versed enough in the art of sex and seduction that he knew how to give and get pleasure, but he’d never had an encounter near what he’d just had with Anna.

He’d wanted to ask her so badly how the hell she had learned to do _that_. He could scarcely believe he’d just had the best orgasm of his life without having actual sex. That he came like _that_ from a handjob.

Again, he’d woefully underestimated Anna. He’d been unprepared, and she came rolling in like a storm, sweeping him up in her wake. Catching him when she knew his ego was bruised, his pride hurt, and she played on it.

_Puppy_.

She’d shut him down in mere seconds with the taunt. Knowing how it had riled him up last time.

Puppy.

He’d been too aroused to argue, to be offended. It chafed at his pride, his dignity, and he’d let it. God, he’d let it, to the point where he didn’t really mind her new nickname for him.

To the point where his body thrummed in excitement when she called him by it. To the point where it started to feel good. Really fucking _good._

Once upon a time, he’d been the suave and charming seducer, the embodiment of all her salacious dreams come true. And now she’d reduced him to an adorable, little scamp, taking away his prowess and replacing it with _cuteness_.

Hell, she’d even said he was _adorable_ when he came. Not sexy. Not attractive. Not irresistible. _Adorable_.

Adorable when he spent. Adorable when he obeyed orders.

Such a comment would have stung his ego before.

But now? Now he rather liked being a puppy. Puppy had gotten him a sexual experience he could never have dreamed up. Not in a million years. From the reading aloud of her books, to the nickname, to the satin hair ribbon around his cock, to the edging, to the oil, to making him hold eye contact. All of it. It had been a feast of the senses.

Only Anna could concoct something like that.

The tease of a lifetime.

He wasn’t ready to look at everything the encounter had done to him. There was something decidedly intimate about parts of what had happened that he did not want to address. Did not want to feel. Did not want to acknowledge had stirred open parts him he’d closed off years ago.

Reading aloud to her, for instance, was such a quiet, private thing. Sentimental. Something friends and family did… _lovers_ did. There was a bond between reader and listener, an unspoken pact.

He’d been self-conscious reading to her. He’d never read aloud to anyone, but with her, he found he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the attention being on him. The way his voice held her and she kept her gaze on him. He’d felt important. Worthwhile. Even if he was just saying someone else’s words. It was frightening how much he had enjoyed such an innocent interaction.

But nothing had frightened him quite so much as staring into her eyes as he came. The connection of that small act alone had been utterly terrifying and utterly exhilarating. About not knowing whether he’d impress her or disappoint her. And knowing that he’d see it in her eyes while he was at his most vulnerable and out of control.

He couldn’t bear the thought of coming and simultaneously seeing disgust and disappointment in her eyes. He could hardly stand knowing she could see exactly what she had reduced him to. What she had done to him.

And then he’d come on command for her, a feat he’d never thought possible.

He couldn’t help it. He had the inexplicable urge to please her, impress her, to the point where he was beginning to wonder exactly what it was he had agreed to, and if Anna really was the one who had gotten the raw end of their deal. It was not just whips and paddles Anna was using, like he’d assumed. No, Anna had other plans, other ideas. Nothing was surface level with Anna, he was seeing that now. Anna was able to use everything.

Back home, he had never been impressive. Nothing he’d accomplished was worth noting and he could never quite seem to garner any sort of attention or praise from his parents. He had strived his entire life to be of importance, and for all his efforts, always came up empty handed. Always deficient and a disappointment. A waste of time.

There was a sense of freedom he was beginning to find with Anna. Her expectations while not simple, were _simplified_. She was clear on what she wanted, and that alone took some pressure off of him.

He didn’t have to run in circles, trying a dozen different things to please her. He only had to focus on what she told him to do. Already giving him the answer and taking away the guess work. Taking away unnecessary stress.

And she handed out praise like candy at a parade when he succeeded. Despite his best efforts, he ate it all up as though he might not get any again. He was horrified to discover he was rather addicted to her praise. Compelled to acquire it from her at any cost, including his pride and dignity.

He wasn’t supposed to care what Anna thought about him. This was a game, after all. A pastime. A lark. A way to get off. He was never supposed to really care. It was only Anna, and he’d already proved that he didn’t care about Anna. If he had, well…he wouldn’t be in a dungeon now.

It was all part of her game, and if he was getting confused, or if things were hitting a little close to the bone, it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve an added layer of pain. He’d hurt Anna in the past, and whether or not he wanted to admit it—ignoring the sex, ignoring the infamy—part of why he had agreed to her terms in the first place was simply because he owed her that much. He _owed_ her.

And they both knew it.

Whether she would find herself or her happiness was yet to be seen, but for Hans, he was starting to find what he hadn’t known he was looking for, leading him to question why he had really agreed to this arrangement.

It wouldn’t last forever, and he knew that. She was getting married, and Anna would leave, growing out of this sordid hobby and settle down into married life. Leaving him behind, a thought that made his chest tighten and heart ache.

He brushed the feeling away immediately, locking it away tight. He didn’t care about Anna. He didn’t.

It was Anna’s game, he reminded himself, but he was the one who controlled the board. He was the one toying with her. Let her keep pretending she was the one with the power, if that’s what she wanted. Ultimately, he was the one who held the upper hand. He wasn’t sure why he kept forgetting that.

***

“It fits beautifully,” Elsa remarked, her finger tips grazing the lace trim on the sleeves. “Really, Anna, you look absolutely stunning.”

Anna blushed, standing before the full-length mirror in her wedding gown. She scarcely recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror, but the pride in Elsa’s voice erased all that.

The dress Elsa had commissioned was beautiful. Maybe not what Anna would have picked, but it was a marvel of simplicity and elegance, befitting of any royal. It was a shame she’d be wearing such a dress cloaked in moss and hidden while standing in a hole of damp earth.

“The hems are going to get filthy in the glade.”

Elsa sighed, her lips drawn tight, a hint of distaste in her voice. “Yes, that is rather unfortunate. You’d be better suited to a grand ceremony in the cathedral and ball at the palace, but it’s important to hold to his family’s customs, since you will be joining his family. No sense offending, even if it’s not how I’d…” Her voice trailed off.

“Elsa?”

Elsa smiled brightly, though it never reached her eyes. “You’re very lucky Kristoff made an offer. I admit after that whole disgraceful business with Hans, I was worried we wouldn’t be able to make you a good match...or any at all.”

Anna glanced away, staring at the ground, dreading the inevitable shame that always accompanied this conversation. “I know.”

“Your reputation was practically in shambles,” Elsa went on, oblivious to Anna’s discomfort. “And it was nothing short of a miracle that you met Kristoff. Your true love, _and_ a man from Arendelle.” Elsa gave her arm a squeeze. “It was perfect. I’ll never have to lose you again. It’d be awful sending you oversees to a new kingdom after…everything.”

The guilt laced in Elsa’s voice prompted Anna to speak quickly, hoping to curtail her sister’s melancholy. “I’d be hard pressed to leave you anyway,” Anna reassured softly. “I’m glad you’ve opened the palace to him.”

“I know you think it was a quick engagement, I know,” Elsa continued, her voice tight, and Anna could already see her sister caught in one of her spirals. “I see it there in your eyes every time I look at you, but please believe me when I say that I’m doing what’s best for you. The sooner you are properly married, the sooner people will forget your former indiscretions with Hans.”

Anna stayed silent, instantly mollified by the deep-rooted shame. It seemed Elsa would never let her forget that bit of unpleasant business no matter what she did. She reminded herself that Elsa was only looking out for her, ever the older sister, still overprotective and cautious. Elsa blamed herself more than Anna for Anna’s fall from grace.

Elsa had been mortified when she’d discovered just how many liberties Anna had taken with Hans. So many liberties that not a single dignitary had batted an eye over the lies Hans told of their hasty marriage vows.

Consequently, even after Elsa’s frozen summer and Hans’s true motives revealed, Anna’s social disgrace had caused Elsa a great deal of anxiety, and Anna was forever sorry for it. She hadn’t meant for any of it. When she had first met Hans, she had simply just wanted a bit of happiness for herself. Something just for her. A chance to love and be loved. A chance to see the world outside the palace, outside of Arendelle. She had only wanted to be happy, and on her own terms.

For as long as Anna could remember, her life had been centered around supporting Elsa whether she was an absent sister or not. Her parents had never told her why, but Anna had done as they had asked without question or thought. Of course, she would love and support her sister unequivocally. That’s what sisters did, her parents had never had to tell her that, but they had been adamant regardless.

Anna had grown up knowing that Elsa would someday be queen, and that ruling was a difficult job. On top of that, Elsa had powers. It was a lot to deal with, and so Anna did what she was born to do, support her sister at all costs. Even at the cost of her own happiness.

She could not cause Elsa anymore grief. She would marry Kristoff, and she would learn to love the ice harvests, and the way he chewed, and his cynical, sarcastic comments that drained on her optimism.

A few months earlier, she’d not had the same mindset, the same clarity. Nothing had been more appealing to her than fantasies of abandoning it all and running away. Of being alone.

A few months earlier, she had also not had Hans. Her outlet. Her balance. The thing she was most excited for when she woke up each day. The thing she could occupy her mind with and find exuberance. Exuberance that should have come from her upcoming nuptials. That should have come from being reunited with her sister.

Instead, her favourite part of her life, her passion, was playing with the man in the dungeon. She liked who she was down there. She liked the freedom to be whatever it was she chose to be. She liked being the center of attention for once. She liked having someone listen to her, hang on her every word.

Whenever her real life started to bring her down, she had her escape in the dungeon with Hans. She could shed her role and social obligations, cast off her responsibilities and have the freedom to simply _be_. She wasn’t a disappointment or a screw up down there with Hans. She never had to worry about what he might think of her.

Because what Hans thought didn’t matter. She didn’t have to prove anything to him, and she had nothing to compare herself to there. She didn’t have to hide away her feelings or feel guilty for having them. She didn’t have to worry about appearing stupid or impulsive. She didn’t have to censor herself.

For the first time in a long time, Anna had a place where she could enjoy herself. She never expected to find such a balm in dominating Hans. And yet, there it was. Even while standing in her wedding gown, the date inching closer, Anna’s mind was preoccupied with Hans and where she should take things with him next.

He was being much more obedient, but she couldn’t help but feel that he still wasn’t really hers. Not yet. He was putting on a good show of it, giving her outwardly what she wanted, following orders, making her think she had control, but she didn’t have him. Not the way she wanted. To get that, she needed to get inside, under his skin, use what provoked him, break him a little. She knew she had the tools to start, it was just a matter of how to go about it.

It was funny how the man who had a hand in toppling her life over in the first place was now the one putting the pieces back where they belonged. To where they felt right.

She knew it was all a game, all designed on her whims and her pleasures, knew he had his own reasons for agreeing to her terms and that those reasons likely did not match her own, but she still loved it.

It was hers.

And with enough time, Hans would be too.


	11. Chapter 11

Anna took a deep breath before entering the dungeon. The month had come and gone, leaving her very little time to pursue her hobby in the wake of her upcoming nuptials. From rehearsing her vows, to visits to the glade going over the ceremony details, to the mortifying and uncomfortable lessons from Bulda on what was required of Anna on her wedding night and marriage in the efforts of procuring children.

The whole affair had left a bad taste in Anna’s mouth.

It had been a month of keeping her mouth shut and smiling, bearing her anger quietly, bottling it up. She hardly thought it was fair that Kristoff’s pleasure was all that mattered in a marriage. Without it, there would be no hope of children. Anna, however, was instructed to just, _‘lie still and take his attentions until his seed is planted_ ’. That was her part to play in the act of coupling. Lie on her back and let Kristoff do ‘ _his work_ ’. The very idea that sex was work and not fun made her gag.

She’d thought for certain that Kristoff wouldn’t possibly agree with his mother on such a topic. Not when the pleasures of the flesh offered so much more than just making babies. But Kristoff, was very much a stickler to propriety, stating that anything else was not what ladies of good reputation engaged in, and he would never dream of sullying her with such debased requests. He was content to lie with her as a proper man and wife dictated, as he’d been taught by the trolls.

He’d thought she’d been worried about being subjected to depravity, and ruffled her hair affectionately. _“You read too many stories, don’t worry, I’ll not require you to do anything lewder than a few kisses and lying still.”_

She had tried to explain that maybe she wanted to be lewd, that maybe she didn’t want to lie still under him while coupling, but Kristoff had cut her words off with what he’d probably thought were reassuring kisses, and that she had nothing to be afraid of with him.

Nothing but boredom and dissatisfaction.

The whole encounter had left her tense and frustrated, and she’d been counting the days to when she’d get a moment to see Hans again. She had so many pent-up feelings she needed to take care of. She still held out hope that once in the throes of marital passion, Kristoff would change his mind. But if she couldn’t find satisfaction in her marriage bed, at least she could remedy that disappointment in the dungeon with a whip.

Hans was chained up in his usual position, his eyes upon hers the moment she entered, rapt with attention. It caught her off guard. Nobody looked at her like that. More often than not lately, she’d been an afterthought to everyone while they went about preparing for her marriage. Preparing _her_ for marriage. Nobody bothered with what Anna had to say or what she wanted.

Nobody but Hans.

That was the whole point of him, wasn’t it?

God, he did look like a puppy. All that was missing was the wagging tail at the sight of her as he stood patiently. Eagerly waiting for her to acknowledge him. His body practically vibrating with excitement.

“Someone is showing off how well behaved he can be.”

His eyes shone brightly, sparkling like polished gems. So docile. Just like a pet. Someone finally seeing her for her and excited about it.

She strode over to him, taking his chin firmly in her hand, tilting his head, inspecting him. “You don’t look much like a mongrel anymore, do you, puppy?” She traced her thumb along his bottom lip. He stayed stock still, obedient as she continued her appraisal. “No, I can see you’re more of a stray with a pedigree now.”

He fought back a pleased smile, his cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink, making Anna’s heart skip unexpectedly, a startling reaction. It really had been a long month if Hans was making her flutter over a silly, little smile.

Best to get on with it, she wasn’t here to start fawning over Hans. She unfastened his trousers and pulled them down until they caught on his boots, ignoring that he was already semi-hard and rising. _Typical Hans_.

“Let’s see if you can count to twenty-five today. I don’t want to hear any words but numbers from those soft lips.” She left him to grab the leather strap she’d used the first time on him. She didn’t give him time to prepare before the strap landed sharply across his ass.

He flinched.

“One.”

 

He’d been waiting all month for this; spending his nights practicing for her. This time, he would get it right. This time, he’d succeed. He’d mastered his control. There would be no early spending, no messing up numbers or rules. He wasn’t a mongrel _or_ a stray. He was a pet. A _pet_ with a pedigree, and today he’d show her that. He wasn’t just a puppy. He was _her_ puppy. By the time she left today, she would have to acknowledge that truth.

Her wedding was mere days away, and Hans had been fretting over whether he’d see her or not. Whether or not this bargain was over now that she was days away from being a bride, a wife. If she was caught up in the frenzied anticipation of the impending date the way the rest of the palace and Arendelle were. The wedding was all anyone he saw talked about. Stone-faced guards chatted excitedly about the upcoming nuptials, as did the servants charged with his grooming.

Was she going to abandon him once married? Would her husband take his place and become her pet instead? Had he merely been practice for an adventurous bride? The very thought made his stomach turn. He had to believe that he was special. That it was him who was worth it, and not just anyone.

He was disgusted with himself over how badly he needed reassurance from her, knowing she didn’t owe it, knowing he didn’t deserve it. He was nothing to her but a toy. A fleeting pastime. It had kept him up at night, disrupting his sleep, and eating away at him.

He couldn’t lose this, not when he was finding a purpose and a role he fit into. A role he could be good at. He had to prove to her that he was worth continuing with, that even if she was married there was still value in this. In him.

Abstinence from sexual gratification, from _her_ , made him crazy. His thoughts always revolving around her. Practically everything was Anna these days.

So much was stacked against him. His crimes. Her true love. He wasn’t supposed to want her touch, her attention. But he did. Ever since she’d granted him the climax of a lifetime, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. She was all consuming. She had ignited his lust, and it was a powder keg. He wanted her hands on him. He wanted to come while looking in her eyes again.

And he was positive he would. All he had to do was show her what he’d learned, that he could be taught. That he could give her what she sought. He controlled the board. He let Anna think that she did, but ultimately, he was the one calling the shots, it wasn’t over unless he said so. All he had to do was follow Anna’s rules, convince her she still needed this, needed him, and it would all work out in his favour. He could play her game, and keep her playing.

His count reached a perfect fifteen when she stopped, her breath hard on his back—a sensation that was fast becoming a favourite of his. He heard her place the strap down, and closed his eyes, ready for her touch, needing it. He’d been a good, obedient boy, he’d earned this.

Both hands were on his ass cheeks, squeezing him tight, rubbing the firm globes with a deep, satisfying pressure. Commanding. He grinned, she touched him like she owned him. In a way she already did, even if she wouldn’t say it. She held him tethered to his lust like a dog on a leash.

“I bet you want more, don’t you, puppy?”

He inhaled, the grin still on his lips and nodded. Completely ready for the tease. His cock ached, practically weeping with precum, begging to be stroked, but he could wait. The delicious licks of pain from his neglected member were worth it. He knew she wouldn’t touch him there yet; she’d wait until he’d impressed her this time.

Just like he had, Anna had learned from their past encounters too. She wouldn’t risk him accidently spending early again. The thought gnawed at his ego, that she was treading carefully with him as if he was weak and needed the assistance. His loss of control still dogging him even after he’d already proven to her that he wouldn’t again.

_No matter_ , he told himself fiercely. Half the fun was in the build up. In the tension, in this unspoken tug-o-war of power that coursed like an undercurrent between them, sending his body into a frenzy.

“Show me you’re worth the trouble.” And the strap stung across his rear.

He bit back a moan, his bottom on fire, his cock dripping. “Sixteen.”

Another five followed in quick succession, and he counted. She was just as eager to see him reach twenty-five. He could feel it. Her excitement dancing with his own. She wanted this just as much as he did. The thought exhilarating, his entire body tingling with elation. She wanted him to succeed.

And he would. For her, he would.

Four more to go. He braced himself. Ready. Willing.

He growled low in despair when he heard her put the strap down again. He was so close to twenty-five. He just wanted to finish and get his deserved reward for such a feat. She reached both arms around him, and he fought not to lean into her embrace.

She was going to go for his cock. The moment of truth at hand.

He cried out in both pleasure and shock when her hands went to his nipples instead, tweaking them hard in unison between her forefingers and thumbs. Her touch rough and biting, stinging such delicate flesh, making his knees almost buckle while his nipples stood erect. Pleasure zipping straight to his loins. His cock as stiff as a board, pulsing with need. He let out a groan, needing to be sated. The pain and frustration now transformed into absolute bliss. A decadence all on its own.

She finished his count with her bare hand rather than the strap and he swore he saw stars. Her flesh meeting his nearly causing him to leave the numbers and beg. The flat of her palm the most delicious sensation on his already sore bottom. And with each strike, he imagined perfect, red little handprints left behind on his rear. Marking him as hers. Delirium setting in.

He wasn’t entirely aware he’d even finished counting to twenty-five when she had finished. Not until her lips brushed his earlobe. Her breath, hot and inviting, making him shiver. “Well done, puppy! Keep that up and there might be a collar in your future.”

He could barely contain the giddiness her praise had caused. Good lord, if he didn’t love hearing her compliment him and his efforts. Hearing the elated tone of her voice, how pleased she was with him; he adored it shamelessly.

“I think that performance warrants a special treat.”

It was the ‘ _special_ ’ that caught his ear, and he knew right then and there she had something else up her sleeve. Some other little test. She was going to grip him fast and hard, test his control and push him to the limits. His pulse raced in anticipation. He was ready, God, he was so ready for her.

Her hands were back on his ass, and he almost cried out in protest. That was not where he wanted her attention or expected it, and she knew it. She was teasing him, testing him, he realized, trying to get him to speak before given permission to. He clenched his jaw shut. She couldn’t fool him. She—

His train of thought abruptly snapped in half and he gasped in surprise when one slender finger slid between the cheeks of his ass, slipping down along the channel, stopping just above forbidden area and back up his crease again.

An involuntary groan of pleasure escaped his lips, and was rewarded with a firm squeeze of his cheek with her other hand. It was taboo what she was doing to him—what he was _letting_ her do to him, but her touch was intoxicating, and he craved her hands on him in a way he’d never had with anyone. Her finger slipped back down his crease again, and his whole body squirmed at her touch. Needing her to go further. This time, her finger drifted down, stopping at his puckered hole and lingered.

His breath caught in his throat. They should not be doing this. And he should not be enjoying it.

Apprehensive enjoyment was still enjoyment, and while part of him wanted to say the word that would stop it all, another part of him wanted to see how far she would go. How far she could make him go. Where were his limits, really? Only one way to find out.

He did his best to relax as her finger circled his entrance, pressing lightly, not enough to enter, but if she wanted to, he wasn’t exactly complaining. He nearly came undone when he heard the familiar pop of a small cork. He drew in a tense breath through his teeth as cool oil dripped between his crack, but where his body hesitated, his mind dared her to go further.

Her finger slipped back up his channel, warming the oil and slicking her finger up good. And he loved the filthy hedonism of it. Loved that she might very well shove that sweet little digit up his ass and that he might like it.

“Mmm,” she moaned, and he’d never heard her make such a sound, her body pressing up tighter against his back, making him whimper in return. “You’re a bit of a pervert, aren’t you? You’re enjoying this.”

He held his breath, staying silent, freezing at being called a pervert. It rankled him that she’d give him such a debased label when she was the one who had started it. That she’d deliberately used the word the guards had called him. She knew how much it had upset him, and he instantly regretted ever telling her.

He’d never been a sexual deviant. Never had thought about sex in an unnatural way. This was his first foray into such a realm, and he found that the more he thought about it, the more offended he was by her words. He wasn’t a pervert. This had been her doing, not his.

She giggled. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot to give you permission to speak. You may speak.” Her slicked up finger pulsed on his button, the tip almost entering. Pleasure in the pressure and anticipation jolted him. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes,” he whispered. The word tumbling out immediately. The moment he uttered the word, she increased the pressure on the pad of her finger, and his cock bucked in excitement.

“Oh? You are?” There was something mischievous in her voice. She clicked her tongue. “So you are a pervert, then?”

“I’m not.”

“I think you’re lying.” Her free hand slid its way to his front, hovering just above his neglected cock. The heat from her palm made him squirm while her other hand stayed firmly at his backside, her finger gently probing his entrance. She was making it really difficult for him to concentrate. “Say it.”

“I’m lying,” he answered. Shamed laced through him, he wanted relief so badly, he’d say anything.

“And?” Her hand moved just a fraction closer to his throbbing cock.

_Oh God. Not that._

He wouldn’t say that. She couldn’t make him say it. He was _not_ a pervert. He was the thirteenth son of a king, not some lecherous commoner from poor breeding and loose morals. If she thought she was getting him to say something so—

“Say it. Say, _I’m a pervert_.”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I’m not—”

“You _are_.” Her voice was hard and firm, the same as her finger on him, the pleasure so intense he couldn’t resist and his body responded. He writhed against her probing finger. Wanting it. Needing it. No matter how depraved it was. The tip of her finger now in. She pumped slowly and shallow and he moaned for all he was worth. The sensation foreign yet maddening. He needed more. “Say it, Hans. You can’t lie to me anymore.”

“I’m—” Heat seared across his face. _Hans_ , not _puppy_. Oh God, she’d used his name and he couldn’t refuse her. His voice came out barely a squeak. “I’m a pervert.”

“Louder.” Her finger pressed in further, sliding easily past his tight ring, the pressure of her finger warm and inviting, nearly overcoming his control. He’d never felt a pleasure quite like this.

“No!” He almost sobbed. He couldn’t. Not louder. Didn’t she see that he wasn’t, that he couldn’t admit such a thing again? Wasn’t once enough?

Her voice went soft, soothing, but that finger wouldn’t let up and he _wanted_ it. _God_ , he wanted it. His hips beginning to sway to her rhythm of their own volition. “Why not?”

“They’ll hear me.”

“And you care what the guards think?”

“I…” _Fuck_ , her finger felt good. “I don’t know!” he blurted, confused and frustrated, needing far more physical attention than what she was offering him. She was asking too many questions and he couldn’t think straight with her finger up his ass and her other hand hovering above his cock so close she was almost touching him. And his cock ached while his ass thrived…and…and he just wanted relief. Wanted to _come_.

“Do you care what I think?”

“Yes!” he answered, shouting the word too quickly, too desperately, and in one word, he’d given away just how badly he needed her. He’d never felt so pathetic as he did in that moment.

“Then say the words louder.”

He bit back a sob, why was she being like this? His stomach rolled in knots, his eyes unable to move from anywhere but the door, knowing the guards were on the other side. It was just like being at home. He couldn’t bear the mocking faces of the guards again; it was too much like his brothers.

Too much like being caught with his hand on his prick in his room. The door swinging open, Lennart pulling his blanket off and snatching the lewd inks he’d been using. Loudly announcing to everyone what he’d been caught doing. That Hans was a filthy, disgusting _pervert_. The way they’d all _laughed_. The way they had _never_ let him forget it. The way even their wives knew… And he flushed with anger, heat and humiliation rising. Anna couldn’t make him. She never should have—

“You’re so close, puppy. Just a little bit further. Almost there,” she murmured into his back, her lips brushing against his skin while her thumb grazed the length of his cock, making it twitch and jump at her command.

 His eyes fluttered shut, brows creased and lips parted in a desire that wouldn’t sound, all at such a delicate indulgence. A whisper of her thumb on him. His hips jerked forward trying to get more of her touch, and he hated how badly his body betrayed him.

“I’m…” he started louder, before panic rose up, disabling his voice.

“That’s it,” Anna soothed. “You’re doing so good right now. Tell me what you are, darling. I want to know. How can I give you what you want…what you need, if you don’t tell me what you are? How are you supposed to be mine if I don’t know you?”

_Oh sweet Jesus,_ what was she doing to him?

Her words clawed at his heart, ripping it to pieces and he no longer knew up from down.

Her voice was that of an angel, calm and hypnotic, firm and absolute. Melting away whatever anxiety he held, whatever rage, fear—whatever memories, because she was right. The realization hit full force. There was only Anna now. Nobody else mattered to him but Anna. Anna would take care of him if he let her. All that mattered was Anna.

“I’m…a pervert,” he said louder, the words slipping roughly off his tongue. Feeling weird and uncomfortable. Guilty, but freeing all at the same time.

He was instantly rewarded for his obedience. Her hand gripped his cock with such intensity that he cried out. It was the most amazing feeling having her small fist around his length while her finger still probed his ass.

“Louder.”

“I’m a pervert!” He obeyed, and she gave him more. Her hands working together in fierce tandem, fucking him, striking up a rhythm that his hips followed eagerly, seeking pleasure wherever it was to be found.

“Keep saying it,” she encouraged, and she was his world. His whole damn world. “You’re almost there.”

And he did, until they were nothing but words, a chant he called out again and again as the pleasure she gave him mounted and mounted until he was moaning and gasping louder than the words, like a man lost in ecstasy, succumbing quickly to rapture.

Anna had him, and with her chest pressed into his back, and her arm wrapped around him, he was safe. He was with Anna, and she was taking care of him. It was the best feeling he’d ever felt. Nothing else compared. Nothing else mattered.

“You’re doing amazing,” she praised, “I’m impressed, so you can come whenever it happens. Lose yourself in it, Hans. You earned this.”

It was the combination of praise and hearing his name that did it. The icing on the cake. The thing that swept him up and toppled him over, relinquishing all control. Surrendering to her. His cock pulsed, and he let go, he let go of everything. Everything but Anna, and came, in hard gushing streams, embracing pure euphoria.

She held him tight, milking every last drop from him as he spasmed, until he was dizzy and the room spun and his knees buckled. Until he was absolutely and completely spent. She supported his exhausted weight, keeping the strain off his tethered wrists. And it was not lost on him. Not for a second, that she had him.

“You see?” she said quietly, and he had to strain to hear her voice over his own heavy breathing, over the rushing of blood in his ears. “Your pleasure belongs to me, and you love it best that way.”

He did.

He really, truly did.


	12. Chapter 12

She frigged herself countless times in the quiet of her room after she’d left him. Frustrated that she couldn’t quite achieve the same satisfaction she’d given Hans. More frustrated that Kristoff couldn’t do for her what she could do for them. Both Kristoff and Hans could come from her attentions, and she couldn’t from either of them. Not that Hans had ever been given the opportunity to try and satisfy her, though the idea held more appeal with each meeting.

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t cross that line. She had very little doubt that he’d please her if she asked. If she told him what she wanted, he would do it. Without question. Hell, he’d probably revel in getting her off. There was something to their renewed relationship that she had not been willing to address. Each time she went to him, she could feel it, thick and heady in the air between them. _Attraction_.

But Anna wasn’t sure if she was attracted to her former fiancé or if she was attracted to the position she had placed him in.

Hans had gotten very good at following instructions, obeying orders. And she had gotten much better at giving them. Much more confident, surer of herself each time she came to him. Each time she arrived and each time she left, the euphoria was ever present. It sang in her blood, and it kept her going back. It kept her, just as surely as she kept him.

But slipping into temptation with Hans would be betraying Kristoff. How could she even think such thoughts when she was marrying him in a few days? What she was doing with Hans wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about sexual gratification for her, even if it was for Hans. Sexual favours were the carrots she dangled to get what she truly wanted from Hans.

It had never been about lusting after him. It didn’t matter how appealing she found his manhood or how many times she’d caught herself fantasizing over it. Frankly, it was disgusting that she did it to begin with. After what he’d done to her, it shouldn’t have mattered what his cock looked like, or how she imagined it would feel. It was attached to a man who was utterly vile.

Possessing Hans had never been about possessing his prick. It had been about humiliating him. Making him pay. Seeing him suffer in a way that encompassed him entirely. It had been about watching him beg. Watching him grovel at her feet, desperate to do her bidding and court her approval. A fitting punishment for a man who had more arrogance than he knew what to do with.

It was about her. Her anger, her malcontent. Her need to unleash her frustrations. She needed him to be the most despicable man alive. If he wasn’t, she couldn’t justify her actions. Why she was keeping secrets from the two people she loved most in the world. Why she was lying to them. If Hans wasn’t awful or the reason, then the fault was within her.

She was the problem.

So, she didn’t want apologies or reason from Hans concerning their past. Such an unlikely event would shake the very foundations their entire relationship was now based on. And she couldn’t have that. Not when torturing Hans—and it was most certainly torture, albeit unusual and indecent—was the thing that kept her sanity. Kept her from fighting with both Elsa and Kristoff. She needed this thing with Hans the way she needed air to breath. He was her balance.

It was her own fault she desired him in between her thighs. She hadn’t prepared herself for actually wanting him in a way that wasn’t owning him. Damn him and his ever-present charm. And damn her for falling for those dreamy eyes and vibrant smile again.

She should be fantasizing about Kristoff taking her on their wedding night, not conjuring up Hans in his place. Something would have to be done about it. She couldn’t enter a marriage with Kristoff and want Hans in her bed instead. At this rate, she was liable to do something stupid.

She sat up from her bed, thoroughly irritated. If only she had even a fraction of the desire she felt for Hans for Kristoff. She wouldn’t be in such a moral dilemma then. She snorted at the thought, as if this whole situation with Hans wasn’t one giant moral dilemma to begin with. If she hadn’t been so broken, so messed up and damaged beyond repair, she would never have sought him out in the first place.

She scanned her room for a distraction, anything to keep her mind off of Hans. She spied her wardrobe, an idea taking root.

_Yes, of course!_

The answer to her problems had been tucked away at the back of her wardrobe this entire time! She moved quickly, throwing open the doors and getting down on her hands and knees to rummage around boxes of shoes, hats and keepsakes until she found what she was looking for.

She pulled the hat box out, blowing dust off the lid. It had been sitting there untouched almost since she’d bought the items. She began to work loose the knot she’d deliberately tied to be near impossible to bother with, lest anyone came across her forbidden treasure.

It took several minutes, a few curses and a broken nail to undo her knotting, but at last, the lid came free. The scent of leather hit her nostrils, sending a delicious shiver down her spine as she began to remove the objects. She pulled out the leather harness—what a foolish thing _that_ had been to buy. At the time, she’d thought she’d needed it to get the other piece to work. That had not been the case.

She pulled the other item out from the bottom of the box, the weight familiar in her hand. She’d only ever used it once. She’d always been so timid, so ashamed. Bravado had spurred her to buy it, but failed in her attempts to make good use of it. She sat back, distracted by her old treasure. She had wrapped it up in a silk handkerchief, wanting to keep it safe from chips. Her hands tore open the wrapping until she felt the cold glass on her palm.

Anyone who happened upon it would think it nothing more than a pretty blown glass paper weight. About four inches long and two in diameter with one end a smooth taper, the other end wider and flat bottomed with a bit of decorative ridge around the base. The ridge, she’d learned, was used to secure it in the harness. She carefully put it down beside the box.

A glass dildo and harness, bought along with her collection of indecent books that day in the harbour from the Kongsberg merchants. She’d bought the harness not realizing that the piece was meant to wear the dildo as though it were her cock, and not to hold the dildo inside her.

When she’d bought it, she’d thought the glass cock was huge. Now it was tiny compared to Hans. Even to Kristoff. It would be a poor substitute, but then she had already known that. The dildo wasn’t what she was looking for. She had kept the artisan’s card and fished the real treasure out of the box. An address.

Carefully wrapping the glass cock back up in the silk, she placed it back in the box, the harness following. She threw the string in and closed the lid, stuffing it back in her wardrobe.

She took the card to her writing desk, and began to write out a commission for a new glass cock. Only this one would be made to replicate Hans’s measurements.

 ***

It was raining.

The day of her wedding and it was raining. It wouldn’t have mattered what the weather chose to do had she been getting married in the cathedral followed by a grand ball in the palace.

But she wasn’t.

She couldn’t help but take the weather as a bad omen. A sign that this was a grievous mistake. If she couldn’t cry on her wedding day, then the elements would cry for her. The downpour was rather fitting in that respect.

“It’s all right,” Elsa reassured her while they travelled the bumpy, overgrown road to the north mountain by carriage. “I’ll freeze us an umbrella for the trek and ceremony. I promise not a drop of rain will land on you.”

Anna forced a smile. Elsa was trying. She couldn’t fault her sister that. Elsa had nothing to do with the rain, and had been doing everything she could think of to try and give Anna the perfect wedding, even though the trolls had taken over the location, the customs, and the ceremony. All things she knew Elsa had desperately wanted a say in, but played the diplomat instead.

Anna turned her attention to the window, watching rain splatter the glass. Elsa had been beside herself with grief over the state Anna’s dress would be in by the time they reached the glade. Anna didn’t really think it mattered. The trolls wanted her and Kristoff standing in a hole for God’s sake, all so they stood level with the trolls.

It went beyond good manners to expect such a thing. Putting the bride and groom in a hole for their wedding! Elsa had even suggested she create ice columns for the trolls to stand or sit on, but Kristoff’s family was adamant about the hole.

Kristoff had been very little help in the matter, and Anna had quickly learned just how easily Kristoff was bowled over and just accepted his family’s often inappropriate behaviour, telling her to just ‘ _roll with it_ ’. His expression anxious and pleading. He’d said it was easier than arguing with them, and there was no point in causing strife. What the trolls wanted, they eventually got.

Anna was already dreading having to share the holidays between her family and Kristoff’s. Not wanting to be in the glade with the trolls and their poking and prodding and _questions_. Lord, the questions. Bulda was going to be a nightmare, what with her incessant desire for grandchildren. Anna shuddered, not wanting to think further on it.

The carriage came to a halt and Anna tore her eyes away from the window as the footman opened the door for her and Elsa.

Elsa grabbed Anna’s hand, clutching it tight, surprising her. “Anna, I—” Elsa frowned, her lips pinched tight. The expression lasted only a moment before Elsa smiled. “I just want to say good luck today, and that I’m proud of you.”

Anna gave a tight smile. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me,” she said softly, and Elsa bit back a sob and pulled her into a tight hug. Startled, Anna warmed in her sister’s embrace.

“I can’t really believe you’re getting married!” Elsa gushed, hastily brushing away tears. “Just think, in a few hours everything will be different. You’ll be a married woman. A wife! Oh, Anna, I’m so happy for you!”

Anna smiled, pulling Elsa back into a hug. “It won’t be that different. We’ll be in the palace with you, remember?”

Elsa laughed. “True.” She let go of Anna. “Come on, we mustn’t keep your groom waiting. I’m sure he’s already nervous enough as it is.”

The wedding ceremony, while unconventional and unpleasant, went off without a hitch. Elsa had stayed true to her word and formed an ice shield to block the rain from Anna, though her hems were a mess by the time they reached the glade, and the hole she and Kristoff stood in had already turned into a mud pit.

None of it had mattered to Kristoff. He stared at her with nothing but affection and adoration. He looked good himself, despite his damp hair and the mud, and yet, Anna struggled to feel that deep sort of love and excitement that should accompany marrying her true love.

The moss cloak kept the chill away, though it stunk from the damp and tickled her nostrils. Still, Anna followed Kristoff and recited her lengthy vows, finding the words had little meaning to her. She felt like a puppet, simply going through the motions while vows bound them together as man and wife.

It had never been how Anna had envisioned her wedding, but seeing Elsa’s happiness, Olaf’s excitement, and Kristoff’s sturdy affection made it worth it. She owed them this much for looking out for her wellbeing.

She was married now. Respectable in the eyes of her societal peers. No longer a silly maiden led astray by a scoundrel.

And, as she and Kristoff shared a cup of mead and danced together to the strange music of the trolls, she really believed she could learn to love him as passionately as she always imagined she would her true love.

When the evening came to a close, Anna returned to the palace with Kristoff. Retiring to their suite, they consummated their marriage vows…and while the act had done plenty of things for Kristoff, it had done very little for her.

Despite her best efforts, the first strands of true disappointment crept in while he slept, his arm tucked around her as silent tears slipped from her eyes. Their lovemaking had not been at all how Anna had hoped it would be. How Anna knew it should be.

He had not made her heart sing, nor had she come.

 ***

She was married.

He supposed he was the only one in the kingdom sullen about it.

He hadn’t thought he’d feel anything but indifferent to the news, but the thought of her lying with another man, touching her husband the way she had touched _him—_

Well, he didn’t want to think about it.

Not that he could help thinking about it. Lying alone in his cell, wondering how another man would take her, pleasure her, touch her the way Hans was forbidden to. He heaved a sigh, wishing just once he’d been able to get to her first, before someone else had.

It was unbelievably petty, but he wanted to give her something to set the bar to. Something to remember him by when it was all over. He wanted her to think of him while she was with her husband. He wanted that contention there, that strife. He didn’t know why; the arrangement had never been about him bedding Anna. She’d made it clear she had no interest in him in that regard.

It was a one-sided lo—lust.

And he knew she wouldn’t keep up their arrangement forever. She’d end it at some point, especially now that she was married. Though he couldn’t quite see her settling quietly into domestic bliss, he knew that all women eventually did. He wasn’t the man who held her heart and was adamant that he didn’t want to be.

It didn’t quite take the jealousy or the sting of it away though.

He didn’t want Anna like that, but he didn’t want someone else to have her either.

Not that he had any say.

He hated the way his thoughts jumbled together in regards to her. When they had started this daft idea, he’d been singular in his wants, in his needs. Now? Now, he spent his days conflicted and confused. Anna _did_ things to him, things that didn’t just pleasure his body, but things that challenged his mind as well. Changed the way he thought about things.

He’d _felt_ things with her. Actual raw feelings, exposed and unguarded. Not the careful veneer of emotions he’d practiced and schooled himself to present outwardly to the world.

Somehow, she was able to dig up and rewrite past hurts that had resided in him long before he’d ever met her. Things he’d carried for years in shame and silence. Things that had hurt, cut him down quick and sure, Anna could turn them around without even knowing all the pain that had existed in the first place.

She made him feel whole somehow, not so broken and useless.

Every time he saw her, he could feel parts of himself slipping to the surface. He loved it and hated it. Anna had asked him to be hers, but he didn’t want to belong to anyone. Not completely. So he resisted. When he came back to his senses, he would do what he did best. Deny, deny, deny.

He was not a man anyone would want in the capacity Anna was demanding. He knew he was unworthy, just as he knew Anna didn’t really care for him. She never would. He’d hurt her beyond repair, and she was extracting what was owed to her. Nothing more and nothing less. It was silly to think he had feelings for her when it was merely a trick of the light, deceived senses.

There was supposed to be no love lost between them. He had never loved her, and her love for him had turned to hate before this had ever started. It was the reason she had come to him in the first place. She’d meant to make him pay. If she were a man, she’d have demanded satisfaction in a duel, but as it were, she was a female, and came at him the only way she knew how.

And it was damn near the most effective punishment he’d ever received. He had gotten far more than he’d bargained for with her. Hans was starting to see that now, much to his concern.

He was a moth to her flame, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get burned to a crisp.

But that had always been Anna’s plan, hadn’t it?

A pistol ball to the heart would have been far kinder, far cleaner.


	13. Chapter 13

Married life did not suit her. Not at all.

There had been no honeymoon phase of their union. She had expected to tour Arendelle at least, if not visit some of the other kingdoms, but nothing had been planned. Her husband was not much for travel outside Arendelle and preferred to carry on as they had always done. No passion. No romance.

Kristoff, while never unkind or cruel, regarded her as he always did, with affable friendship and lazy kisses. Their bedroom exploits were few and far between and always the same. Kristoff would press into her, grunt and jerk for a few minutes while she laid still underneath him. She wasn’t permitted to go clean herself up until after a few minutes so his ‘ _seed would set_ ’. Always a chore rather than a joy, though she knew Kristoff received pleasure from the act while she was left wanting.

It was always about babies with him. Securing an heir. Kristoff was convinced the sooner they conceived, the better. _Motherhood would suit her,_ he’d said. She didn’t doubt it was pressure from his family.

She had grown to loathe the trips out to the glade. She didn’t like the inquiries into her personal life, nor did she care for how candidly Kristoff would answer as though nothing was sacred between them. It was an invasion of privacy for Anna. What she and Kristoff did in their own bedroom was no one’s business but their own. Elsa certainly never asked for or expected intimate details.

It was a point of conflict between Anna and Kristoff. Kristoff felt his family was well-meaning, Anna felt otherwise. It did not help with matters of intimacy between them, and so their coupling was hurried and sparse.

It was a blessing the day a wooden box addressed to her arrived along with lingering wedding gifts from neighbouring kingdoms. Small and unassuming, Anna had known exactly what was inside the package and had snuck it up to her room unnoticed. Her glass replica of Hans. The measurements damn near perfect in accuracy. A welcome and well used relief to her stilted love life.

She found herself down in the Arendelle dungeons far more often since she and Kristoff had wed. Today being no different. There was comfort in Hans. A familiarity she found she desired above all else these days. Whatever her life was spiralling towards outside of the dungeon, _inside_ there was normalcy and a sense of order and belonging that she clung to.

She shifted, stretching her legs out across the dungeon floor, wiggling her toes to chase away the pins and needles in her feet. Hans stopped reading, looking up from the pages at her.

“Perhaps my lady should just have a chair brought in,” he suggested. “As you are here often enough of late.”

Anna shook her head. “We don’t want anyone thinking this is a permanent arrangement.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice, his eyes sharp, defiant.

She stared at him, startled by his response. He’d been like this the last few times she’d visited him in his cell. Cagey, oppositional. Frankly, he needed a good smack, but it wasn’t the end of the month yet, and the bars made any interactions…tricky. She’d not been able to keep up their usual monthly regiment due to marital obligations, and Hans’s punishments had been left by the wayside.

That still didn’t give him the right to test her authority over him. Anna stared fiercely at him until he broke eye contact first.

“Spit it out, Hans,” she replied, keeping her tone bored. “I’m not in the mood today for defiance.”

“Well, you don’t really get a choice in how I act, do you?”

She stood up, irritated. “Get over here. Now.”

For a brief second, she thought he wouldn’t do it, but he put the book down and came to stand in front of her at the bars. Before he had a moment to react, she snatched his jaw tight in her hand and yanked his face towards the bars, making him bend uncomfortably to meet her height. His eyes shone, his body tense with anticipation.

He was acting out on purpose.

Anna sighed, and let go of him. She bent over and picked up his pillow, shoving it through the bars into his arms. “I told you, I’m not in the mood today. I’ll see you later.”

She turned to leave, when his voice caught her. Hoarse and quiet.

“Is he your pet too?”

She quieted a small gasp. The question far more telling than any of his behaviour the past few days. She tried to think when exactly he’d started acting different. Surprised when she didn’t realize sooner it was all after she and Kristoff had married. He was out of sorts over her marriage. Possibly jealous.

She didn’t turn around to face him, but she shook her head softly. “I don’t have any pets.”

She heard him exhale. “Just a stray then?”

She whirled around to face him, suddenly angry. She didn’t need this today, least of all from him. She strode back to the bars. “What is it you want, puppy? You always knew he was in the picture.”

He shrugged. His eyes going flinty and rising to a challenge. “Just wondering when things changed.”

She frowned. “Nothing’s changed—”

“—You’re here almost daily, and you don’t _do_ anything!” he snarled. “You just sit there and have me read your romances out loud and then you leave. You _leave_ without giving me anything! And…and I’m stuck here with a never-ending stiff—”

A laugh escaped her throat, cutting him off. The first time she’d laughed since she’d wed. The sound was almost foreign to her ears. “You’re barking awfully loudly. Are you feeling neglected? Is that it?” she cooed, her tone dripping in saccharine mockery, relishing a fight.

Hans’s body vibrated; his skin mottled in quick anger. “You know damn well that’s n—”

“—You want a collar.” It dawned on her so quickly. How had she missed it? It was so painfully obvious now. She could see it there. Plain as day in his eyes. And _why_ hadn’t she seen it before? Puppy wanted an owner. Now that she was married, his place felt threatened. He needed reassurance. Now that she was married, everything _was_ different, and even down here in her safe little world, things couldn’t remain the same.

Only down here, she was the one in control of the change.

He scoffed. His face going beet red. “That’s ridiculous! I-I don’t. If you think you’re going to show up and put some damned leather strap around my neck, you can think again!”

She smiled, watching him get so worked up over the idea. The hard ridge of his cock betraying what he really thought. She’d never said a word about it being a real collar. They had only ever used the term symbolically before, but he’d jumped straight to a physical representation. He wanted something he could touch to know he was hers.

He _wanted_ to be hers.

“Okay, okay,” she placated, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair through the bars as though he was nothing more than a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “I hear you loud and clear, Hans. If it matters that much to you, perhaps I’ll see about getting you a collar.”

He sputtered, but didn’t argue.

_Check and mate._

She looked him straight in the eye, running her hand down his cheek. “There’s my good boy.”

He couldn’t help but lean his head into her touch, nuzzling his face into the palm of her hand as though he really were a pet, and she knew she had gained another good-sized chunk of him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait! Don’t…don’t I get a reward?”

“For being a brat?”

He clamped his mouth shut, casting his eyes to the ground. Completely shamefaced.

“Bye, puppy.”

She grinned all the way up the dungeon stairs. Hans wanted a collar. A physical collar. She could hardly believe it. He wanted to be owned by her. She couldn’t stop smiling. At least something good had finally come from her marriage. It had sped up her progress with Hans. She had feared they had plateaued over the course of her marriage. Her new role and responsibilities sapping any creative zest she’d carried with Hans.

He’d been right, though it had hurt to hear it. He was frustrated with her complacency and needed more from her than what she had been giving. A real, physical collar could be just the thing Anna needed for inspiration.

Her good cheer faded the moment a voice caught her just outside the dungeon entrance.

“Anna?” Elsa’s voice echoed across the hall. Anna halted, and turned to see her sister hurrying towards her. “Good heavens! That _is_ you! What are you doing near the—”

Elsa’s voice dropped as her mind caught up with her words. One look, and Anna knew Elsa knew that she’d been in the dungeons. Anna braced herself for the confrontation. Her sister shouldn’t have been anywhere near the south wing, near the dungeon entrance. And yet here she was, her expression grim.

“I thought you had decided not to,” Elsa said quietly, the worry etched clearly across her delicate features.

“I told you, I needed to do this,” Anna answered carefully. There was no point in lying, or beating around the bush. Anna had made it plain to her sister months ago that she had wanted this. If Elsa had misinterpreted, well then that was her fault.

“Before!” Elsa cried. Her hands animated as she spoke. “ _Before_ the wedding! It’s well after! What could you possibly be getting from it _now_?”

“I need to see him disgraced.” Anna brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, knowing that Elsa wouldn’t understand. How could she? Elsa did not deal with the world the same way Anna did. Elsa had not been bred to carry the burden of never-ending support. Elsa had not given her heart freely to a man who had broken it. Elsa had not been saddled with a social disgrace that required a hasty marriage. Elsa carried her sins privately, while Anna’s had been flaunted for the whole kingdom to see. “I know that it doesn’t make any sense to y—”

“—You’re damn right it doesn’t make any sense!” Elsa interrupted, her temper flaring. “You need to let him go. This isn’t healthy, this isn’t what a married woman does, Anna! This isn’t what a happy woman does!”

_A happy woman_.

Anna numbed at the words. They cut her, echoing through her mind, but she didn’t feel anything. “Maybe I’m _not_ happy,” she said slowly, quietly, the thought forming itself on her tongue as she spoke. A secret revealed.

Elsa drew in a horrified breath. “Of course, you’re happy.”

“Am I?” And she truly wanted to know.

Elsa clutched her by the shoulders and gave her a bit of a shake. “Yes! For God’s sake, Anna! Yes!” She swooped an arm around her shoulder, leading Anna away from the dungeon entrance. “This isn’t you! None of this is the Anna I know.”

“And what if it is? What if this is me?” Something desperate inside her bubbled up to the surface. And Anna knew deep down that it was now or never. If she didn’t say this out loud now, she never would. If Elsa couldn’t support her now, couldn’t return the sisterly favour, accept that _this_ was Anna—

Elsa held her tighter. “The Anna I know wouldn’t want to see a man who had wronged her suffering in the dungeons—no matter how badly he’d wronged her.”

“You didn’t even ask what I was doing.”

“I don’t need to,” Elsa stated firmly. “Whatever you saw, whatever he said—none of it matters. Understand? _None of it matters_.”

“Even if it’s helped me? Even if—”

“ _Anna_ ,” Elsa continued, the note of finality high in her voice. “Nothing helped you by going down there. By seeing _him_. And as far as I’m concerned, it didn’t happen. You were never down there, and you are to never go back down there. Neither of us will speak a word of this to Kristoff. He’d be so upset.”

Anna stayed silent. Numb. Her sister had failed her. Years of supporting Elsa. _Years_. And when Anna finally needed it in return, Elsa hadn’t wanted to know. Hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. As far as Elsa was concerned, Anna was _fine_. And so, Anna would be fine. She’d carry on as she always had. But her sister was wrong if she thought she wouldn’t return to Hans.

If that was how Elsa was going to be, then Anna would simply call in a debt. Elsa owed her this. Anna had given her life to save Elsa. The least her sister could do was allow Anna this.

Unless Elsa had thought to inform the guards of her new decree, then Anna was most certainly going back down to the dungeons to see Hans. She liked her time with him. She liked breathing in his scent, hearing his voice, watching the way he moved. Hans was there for her enjoyment. Her whims. Her pleasure.

She could see now, more than ever why that mattered so much to her. Elsa hadn’t even bothered to try to understand her, let alone listen to her. All she had seen was Anna near the dungeons, and had immediately stuck her head in the sand, denying that Anna might have been in real emotional pain. That she might actually be broken. Or that Elsa might actually be partly to blame for it.

Anna loved her sister, but it was clear that Elsa could not help her find herself, and didn’t really want to when faced with it. Elsa wouldn’t even accept that anything was amiss.

And it hurt.

She blinked back tears. After all the years she had spent investing in Elsa, always supporting Elsa, always caring for Elsa—when the time came that she needed care and support, needed her _sister_ , Elsa was not there for her.

She had given her life for Elsa, and in return, Elsa couldn’t even give her an ear.

 

Her day did not improve, and by the time Kristoff had returned to the palace, exhausted from a day’s work, Anna was just about through with her ambient, doting sister and wife persona.

They were settled in their quarters, Anna reading by the fire, Kristoff towel drying his hair from his bath when he shattered her world.

“Bulda thinks we’re too far from the glade. She doesn’t see me nearly enough, like she used to.”

Caution prickled over her skin and she slowly placed her book down. “I suppose that’s just part of being married. We are our own little family now, in a way. She can’t always expect you to be at the glade.”

“It’s just that I’ve never lived in the kingdom before,” he continued, scratching the back of his head. “And don’t get me wrong, the palace is nice, but it’s not the mountains.”

“The mountains?” Anna echoed, unable to keep the horror from seeping into her voice.

“Yeah, the mountains. I’ve got a perfectly nice cabin out there, and there’s room for Sven, room for kids—”

“The palace has plenty of room.”

“It’s not the same.” He sighed. “Anna, we don’t belong here.”

“This is my home,” she answered slowly. Of course, she belonged here. She’d been born here. Her entire life had been lived here. How could Kristoff even think of this not being their home?

“Yours, sure.” He plopped down beside her on the settee, taking her hands into his. “But it’s not _my_ home. My home has always been in the mountains, and I was thinking…well, why couldn’t _we_ live in the mountains?”

“I couldn’t…we couldn’t…” She was having trouble forming the thoughts, forming the words. All her life she’d wanted to leave the palace, explore the world, see what life had to offer outside of the palace gates…but the mountains? Away from everything and everyone? The place where she almost died? Nothing but the trolls for neighbours, and occasionally the ice harvesters?

It wasn’t the life she wanted. And if Kristoff knew her at all, he knew she wouldn’t thrive in such a life. Kristoff could live happily in solitude, Anna could not.

“Sure we could. I think it’ll be good for you, for _us_ ,” he encouraged. “Besides, you love the mountains.”

“I hate the mountains!” Anna cried, the words tumbling right out, loud and venomous.

His eyes widened. “You don’t mean that. You’re just upset, and I understand that.”

“No, Kristoff.” God, she was so tired of everyone telling her how she felt, as if she couldn’t be trusted to understand her own feelings. “I hate the mountains; I’ve hated them ever since the frozen summer. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to tell you.”

“But the ice harvest, the ice? You love all of that, right?”

Anna shook her head, not wanting to say the words out loud, not wanting to hurt him. It was true. She hated the ice harvest. “I hate the cold.”

He frowned, his face searching hers. “But you love me, right?”

“I—”

“Because if you loved me, you’d see how miserable _I_ am living in town. Not to mention the palace! You can’t expect me to change my entire life for you.”

Something inside of her broke. “But I’m supposed to change my entire life for you?”

“Yes!” Kristoff nearly shouted, exasperated. “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do! You’re my wife. My life is your life. That’s the way things work.”

“I see,” she said quietly. So that’s how it was to him. As long as he was happy, how she felt didn’t matter.

“Look, I know this is hard for you, and I don’t want to fight,” he said, softening. “It’s a big change, but it’s what’s best for us. You can learn to love the cold, the ice, the mountains.” He was almost pleading with her now. “We met in those mountains. We were married in those mountains. Doesn’t that at least count for something?”

“I almost died in those mountains,” she whispered. The memory of the ice in her heart so vivid her body subconsciously shivered as though she were back there. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to block out the memory of it. His hand was on her cheek, caressing it softly.

“Anna, please. I can’t live like this. It isn’t me.” And she could hear the pain, the desperation in his voice and it echoed her own.

“And I’m not in those mountains.”

“But I am.” His voice cracked. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. His voice so quiet it was as if he was speaking only to himself. “I knew this was a stretch with us. _I knew that_ , but you needed me.” He paused, exhaling. “You needed me to save you.”

_What?_

Whatever had broken inside of her had now shattered into a million sharp pieces.

Anna opened her eyes, meeting his square on. “I didn’t need saving. As I recall, I was the one who saved myself. _I_ saved Arendelle.”

Sympathy etched over his features and he looked about ready to cry. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about, Anna, you needed me. Your sister knew it, my family knew it—” He heaved another sigh, his eyebrows creasing in concern, maybe even regret. “Your reputation was ruined. _You_ were ruined. Sullied. Your dalliance with Hans—however right you thought it was, was inappropriate. You never heard all of the things people were saying because we never let you. Elsa kept it from you. _I_ kept it from you, but you were completely ruined—far more than you were led to believe. You were a disgrace up until you became my wife.”

That couldn’t be true! There was no way— Her stomach churned, rolling in knots. She thought she was going to be sick. This marriage was a sham. A sham! “You didn’t marry me for love,” she said slowly, the shock setting in. “You married me because Elsa made you!”

“Of course I love you!” he quickly pacified. “And nobody _made me_ marry you. I did it out of love for you. It was the best course of action, and it needed to be done quickly. What if there had been a babe? A little bastard mite sired by that rake? Someone had to take responsibility for you!”

“I never slept with Hans!” she screeched the words, the anger boiling over, everything rising to the surface and coming out. “God, we’d never even kissed! While you and your family and Elsa were all busy ‘saving’ me from myself, had nobody even once thought to ask _me?_ About any of it?”

He looked shamefaced now, and she knew the answer. Nobody had thought to ask her. To them, she was just some stupid, romantic fool. No wonder Kristoff had been surprised to learn she had a brain and read non-fiction. No wonder he thought Elsa was one of the most brilliant minds in the world and hung on her every word.

They had all conspired against Anna, treating her like a child, assuming they knew what was best for her as if they were all correct in their assumptions. As if they actually knew her.

All this time she had been wracked with guilt over the way she felt about things, worried she’d hurt the people she loved, all to find out that the people she loved didn’t love her the same way. They didn’t consider her feelings. Her wants. Her dreams. They did not consider _her_ at all.

To them, she was that piece that didn’t quite fit, so they had come up with a way to reshape her, mould her into a piece that fit within their lives. A thing that would no longer be a source of embarrassment and shame to them.

She was a fallen woman, and despite everything she had done for her sister, for her kingdom, that was how eyes still saw her.

She was a disgrace.


	14. Chapter 14

She was not speaking to Kristoff. Regardless of his best efforts to cool her temper and patch things up, Anna had resisted him and his attempts to make amends. He left her with a mournful sigh and a final ‘I’m sorry’, before he headed out with Sven to his ice harvest the next day.

Anna didn’t think he really needed to go to work, and had simply made up the excuse to leave, much later in the day than he normally would for harvesting ice, and this time for a few days. Which was fine with her. What was one more lie to her marriage founded on them?

What he had done to her had been a betrayal, and could not so easily be fixed with sad eyes and apologies. Anger and contempt unlike any she’d ever known burned through her, and thankfully, she had not had the opportunity to face Elsa yet. Her sister had been swamped with meetings and other queenly duties that had kept her from Anna’s wrath.

Elsa was too busy being the jewel of the kingdom, the grace and propriety everyone expected from a royal, while Anna was side eyed and whispered about.

She rolled her eyes. Thank goodness Elsa had decided to protect her own reputation as much as Anna’s by marrying her off quickly to the first man that came within her eyeline. It was no wonder Kristoff preferred to take her to the isolated mountains. She’d be less of a burden on him there. No one to hear any ill words from out there. Best to hide Anna, the family embarrassment, away.

Hans may have been a lot of things, but he was still a gentleman in the regard that concerned everyone so much. He’d sought an engagement first, not taking any of her virtues. Not that it mattered since everyone thought otherwise.

Even Kristoff had thought she’d been to bed with Hans. To him, she was a dirty thing. What he must have thought all those times she’d suggested they try intimacy for pleasure instead of its intended purpose. He’d been trying to clean her up, make her a presentable wife, sweeping out the notions of passion and romance as if wife and those things couldn’t be one of the same.

No wonder children were the ever-present goal. Nothing made a woman respectable like children in wedlock. Like blessed motherhood.

Her rage was undiluted and pure, bottled, and hidden behind her mask of sweet countenance for the world. Her legs already moving her to the one direction where she could deal with everything she was feeling. Where she could take all these ugly feelings and make this right.

She had originally thought it best to lay low from the dungeons after her warning from Elsa, but Anna was past caring about being the obedient and well-behaved younger sibling. She was the disgrace. She didn’t have to dance to anyone’s tune but her own.

If she wanted to see Hans, then she was going to see Hans.

Not a single guard stopped her along her way as she followed the path to him by muscle memory alone. So Elsa had thought that her words would be enough to stop Anna from going. Her sister’s ego was suddenly repulsive. Beloved Elsa, the omnipotent, her word, her law.

“I want him strung up in chains,” she said flatly to the guard outside Hans’s confinement.

The man gave her a puzzled look. “It’s not the end of the month, my lady.”

“I don’t care. Do it.”

“Yes, my lady, of course.” The man hurried off, calling some men to his side as Anna made her way to the room Hans received his lashes in.

If he was confused or out of sorts, Hans didn’t show it when he was brought to her. He was strung up, restrained in chains while another guard rushed to set up the table of instruments.

“There’s no need for that,” Anna said, raising her hand to the guard who was pulling straps and paddles from a chest. “Just the large whip will do.”

The man’s hand stayed, but he looked hesitant. “Yes, my lady.” The guards exchanged nervous glances with each other, but said nothing before exiting the room.

Hans remained silent until the door closed. “Who’s the overeager one now?” That coy smile on his lips and sparkle in his eye infuriated her. “It’s not month end.”

“Shut up.”

If he hadn’t noticed that she was different today, he did now. Whatever he’d heard in her words was enough to keep him silent, and not test her further. He kept his mouth shut and watched her curiously. His eyes never leaving her until she was out of his sight and behind him.

She’d never used the large whip on him before. She knew it was the one that had been preferred by the guards that had overseen his punishments before she had taken over. The great length of polished black leather had always been intimidating, even when she had sought out the guards for instruction on how to use the instruments of torture properly.

She’d learned how to wield it on straw dummies out back, just past the barracks and out of sight. Hans’s main guard giving her the instruction. She had liked that he hadn’t questioned her, hadn’t teased her about being a girl. The man had always taken her seriously and taught her accordingly.

She picked up the whip and unraveled it, testing it a few times away from Hans, the sharp crack making him flinch.

When she was ready, she stood at his back, her feet planted firmly. “Count for me.” And she swung.

_Crack!_

“One!”

_For Elsa_.

_Crack!_

“Two!”

_For Kristoff_.

_Crack!_

“Th-three.”

_For you_.

_Crack!_

He hissed in pain. “Four.”

_For me_.

Her hands shook and she clenched her teeth, tears threatening to fall as she drew the whip back again.

_Crack!_

He cried out five in anguish. And she saw red. Literal red. Past the haze of her anger.

Blood.

A thin red line, diagonal across his back, growing redder by the second, the colour breaking off from the line to drip heavy drops of crimson down his skin.

“Oh God!” She dropped the whip, her anger quickly dissolved and replaced with panic.

Her hands covered her mouth in horror at the macabre gash, red and angry across his perfectly sculpted back. The back she had loved. The back she had always been so careful to preserve. She had done this. In her anger, she had drawn blood.

“Oh God _, you’re bleeding_.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he answered calmly. “Just finish it.”

But she didn’t hear him. She stumbled backwards, away from him. She had hurt him. Physically hurt him. She stared at her work in silent repulsion. Disgusted with herself and what she’d become in a moment of blind rage. Careless. Reckless. Awful.

“It’s bad,” she mumbled through her fingers, her eyes wide and afraid, his perfectly sculpted back painted red as though she had taken an artist’s brush to him. “It’s bad, it’s bad, it’s bad—”

Hans struggled on the chains, trying to crane his neck to see her properly. “Anna?” he asked sharply, concern laced through that single word, and it only made it worse. He never called her by her name anymore. It was always ‘ _my lady_ ’. Always. This was bad. So very, very bad.

She pulled her hands away from her mouth, staring at them, pale and slender, and so dainty, but trembling. “I hurt you.” The words barely made a sound on her lips.

“No. You didn’t. It’s _fine_.”

_Fine. Fine. Fine_.

_Peachy. Lovely_.

How long had she been telling herself those words? How long had she been trying to convince herself and nothing was getting any better? Nothing was fine.

Not even here, in her perfect little wonderland was she fine.

She’d hurt him. And she had promised she wouldn’t. Had told him that wasn’t what she wanted. And she’d gone and done it anyway.

_Fine. Fine. Fine._

_Everything is fine._

A high-pitched wail filled the air. Hers. Everything was red and blurry and the liquid on his back matched the volume of tears spilling violently from her eyes, and everything was _not_ fine.

She ran for the door. Bolted for it. “I need to get help!” She heard herself say as her fist pounded on the door, fast and hard, her knuckles tearing on the rough wood as she knocked. Pain slicing through her and she deserved it. _She deserved it_.

Because everything was not fine, and it never had been.

The door was opened, and her words came out rushed and panicked, “He’s bleeding, he’s bleeding!”

***

She didn’t know how long it had taken them to calm her down. The guard, the one she had come to know as Hans’s guard, had been the one to settle her. She sat huddled on a small, wooden stool, tucked against the wall of the weird little hallway separating the whipping room and Hans’s cell from the rest of the dungeon.

A hip flask sat in her shaking hands. One of the men had given it to her. She’d taken but a sip, the liquid burning down her throat and making her cough. Pulling her away from red and bringing her world back into focus.

“He’ll be okay. It’s never so deep as it looks,” the guard reassured. “The littlest injuries can be deceiving with the blood.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she said, tears threatening to fall again. “I never wanted to really hurt him.”

“They’ve got him cleaned up and back in his cell. The physician’s looked at the wound and everything. Given him a bit of something for the pain.” He gave her a tight smile. “At least we know our princess is thorough. First time we’ve had a demand for a physician to overlook a prisoner.”

“He’s mine,” she answered absently.

The guard simply nodded, gently taking the flask from her hands. “Best you head upstairs now. Your kin will be wondering where you are, it’s nearly supper. Can’t have a princess with a tear stained faced over a bit of blood at the dinner table, now can we?”

“I suppose not.”

“Every man has done it. Drawn blood by accident. It’s a right of passage down here. Every man here lives with it.”

She looked up at the guard. “You’ll let me come back?”

He laughed then. “Is that what’s got you so worried? Little lady, you outrank us all down here. It’s not my place to tell you what you can and can’t do. Nor is it my place to question what it _is_ you do down here.”


	15. Chapter 15

She supped alone.

Elsa had eaten without her, entertaining esteemed guests. Dignitaries from Vakretta that Anna hadn’t known were visiting. The feast had started early according to Gerda. Anna didn’t need to ask why she had not known about it. Vakretta was known as a staunch, puritanical kingdom, and Elsa likely wanted to save Anna the embarrassment.

Or save herself the embarrassment of Anna.

At least Anna wouldn’t have to deal with her sister tonight. Or Kristoff. A hard lump formed in her throat. He was still convinced they’d move to the mountains and live a quiet life in his remote cabin. Likely he was there right now, surveying what would need to be done to prepare for the upcoming winter.

She shivered, pushing away thoughts of freezing to death and tucked her head into her hands. She was a mess. Everything was unravelling, and underneath the tattered bits of the tapestry of her life, she could see that her feelings were warranted. That she had been right. Her happily ever after, was not _her_ happily ever after, but one that had been orchestrated for her by those she was closest to. By those she loved most. By those who claimed to love her.

And they did. They just didn’t want or know how to love the ugly parts of her.

Anna couldn’t fathom conditional love. It didn’t exist for her. Love was unconditional. Plain and simple. You either did or you didn’t love the whole of someone. To do so otherwise was selfish and misguided.

She felt sick. Miserable. Hardly any appetite at all.

She had let them pull the wool over her eyes. She had let them spin their stories and believed them. Against everything her heart had been saying, she believed them. And why? Because it was easier. It was easier to live their fantasy than admit the truth to herself. It was easier because they’d had good intentions and hadn’t meant any harm.

That they were only looking out for her. Doing what was best. How many times had Elsa told her that? And how many times had it kept Anna silent, compliant? Subdued.

Reminding her, that despite all the good she had done, she had still screwed up. That she was still a disappointment and a failure. No matter what great things she had accomplished, she would always be the foolish one. The one that couldn’t be trusted to get it right. The irresponsible and childish one.

The lost lamb.

No wonder she had gone back to Hans. Her first mistake. Her worst mistake, and also her favourite.

She had convinced herself that the answer to all of her problems lay with Hans. It had started with him, and so by that logic, it should finish with him.

Only she still didn’t know what it was she wanted. What she needed from him, hoped to achieve. That missing piece to her life that could set things right and make her feel like herself again. Make her feel _something_.

That was her flaw in this madcap game with Hans. The mistake. She had wanted him to be hers. Completely. Unequivocally. But without knowing who she was first, Hans would never be hers. She could see that now. He would never fully give up his trust. Without some clear grasp of her identity, there could be no real honesty between them, no real way he’d submit to her completely. He didn’t _know_ her to be able to do that. Not truly.

He’d merely been indulging her these past months, letting her play pretend, letting her believe in the fantasy. Letting her pretend she was in control, when really it had been him all along. Letting her play with him. Deep down, she had known that, that Hans had always been the one with the power, but that hadn’t stopped her from returning to him time and time again.

It begged the question as to why she had really sought him out in the first place.

Why she thought Hans could fix it.

She’d first lost herself with Hans. It was that simple. And if she lost herself with him, then she could find herself again with him. Backtracking her steps trying to find the pieces of herself she’d misplaced and dropped along the way.

And to do so, she needed to open herself up to him again.

That terrified her.

Because what if what she had really wanted from Hans wasn’t his obedience after all? What if what she’d wanted from him was something much deeper than that? Much more unattainable?

_Love_.

_Unconditional love_.

That’s where she had lost it. With him.

She didn’t like this train of thought, and had been derailing it every time it surfaced. She had no choice but to look at it now. She’d made an awful mess of things, and if she had any hope of repairing any of the damage she had caused, she needed to look at everything. Even the uncomfortable and painful parts.

Maybe in the beginning, she had been unclear with what she wanted. And maybe because the idea was so farfetched, so ludicrous, she’d convinced herself that she didn’t know what she had truly wanted or who she even was. Masking her desire for real love with the desire to have a man bend to her will, submit to her power, her presence. To find her the most enchanting and enthralling creature of them all.

And instead of tending to that bond properly, Anna had let her anger and frustration with all the wrong parts in her life consume the good part in her life. Ruined it all with an act of carelessness.

What little ground she had gained with Hans, she’d lost. What little trust she’d managed to build up had been washed away like a sandcastle being taken by the tide. The minute she had harmed him, it all came crashing down. She had broken it.

But she could fix this. She could get back up and try again. And again, if she had to.

That was who she was, or at least, had once been.

_Yes_ , she used to be tenacious. Her determination unstoppable.

Somewhere along the line, Anna had abandoned that nature to keep from upsetting her family. To make Elsa’s life easier. She had traded in bits of herself to adapt to whatever it was Elsa had needed, had wanted Anna to be, and Anna had obliged. Her only goal, making Elsa happy. Taking some of the burden off of Elsa.

And she couldn’t keep doing that. She knew that now. Something had to give, though she wasn’t quite ready to face Elsa. Not without a plan. Not without a calm heart. Not without practice. At this point, she wasn’t even ready to face Kristoff, and he’d always been the more accommodating and laid back of the two.

_Fix things with Hans first_.

That was where it felt safest, where Anna had the most control. Where she knew she could get back up and start mending the damages. There were never any guarantees, but Hans was her safety net. He was nearly risk free. If she couldn’t fix things with him, then she couldn’t fix anything.

She’d have to confront her own ugliness to make this right. Her own failings. Her own mistakes. She could do that with Hans. He was supposed to be her worst enemy, but the lines of what they were had muddied over time.

What would the old her have done? The answer came almost immediately. Even for Hans. She took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she had to do.

She was tired of being angry all the time. It was time to fix it.

***

“Awfully late, don’t you think?” He sat calmly on his bed, watching her through the bars. Anna didn’t answer him. She was anxious and wound tight, not at all his haughty mistress tonight. Her hands wringing together in a nervous gesture he couldn’t help but find endearing. She’d been worried about him. Worried enough that she had thrown caution to the wind.

He already knew she shouldn’t be here, that it was risky to see him twice in one day, and in the evening, no less. He already knew that Anna knew it too.

She moved wordlessly towards his cell, ignoring his question, her eyes giving him a slow once over that was not lost on him.

On her orders, he’d been freshly bathed, the scent of soap lingering in the air. Her eyes travelled over him, and he hoped she was pleased with what she saw. It hurt how desperately he wanted her approval on the matter of his looks. Though he suspected she was not looking at him with that kind of appraisal tonight.

He knew damn well she had been upset about earlier. About the accident. She’d had a full on meltdown over drawing a bit of his blood, and Hans hadn’t understood why she was so upset, but then, Anna was always hard for him to understand. He could read her as plain as a book, but understanding the words on her page were tricky. It was half the reason he was drawn to her in the first place. She was a mystery, an enthralling one at that.

He knew that when she had come to him earlier, she’d been uncharacteristically angrier than usual. Never had he seen her so close to the edge of losing it. He’d no idea what had caused her mood, only that she’d needed him to work through the emotion and come back to herself, and so he had willingly given himself up to her. It hadn’t even been a question; he simply just did.

He was sure she had been adamant in his care afterwards because she was afraid of an infection. The dungeon wasn’t the most sanitary place, and the risk of infection was one of the reasons the guards never broke skin on purpose. Hell, she’d even sent a physician to check on him. Even the guards had been thrown off by that.

But not Hans.

To him it was only a reminder that Anna—however bossy, however domineering, however cruel she pretended to be—was still sweet, little Anna from the docks underneath it all. Fretting and worrying, nervous and loveable.

Guilty over the littlest, miniscule mistakes. Taking everything to heart.

Yes, that was his Anna. The woman who carried the world on her shoulders and still smiled brightly. Too hard on herself, taking the liability for everything whether she was to blame or not. Always responsible to the core, even in her frivolity. Anna, he decided, understood the world and what it expected better than anyone else he knew.

Anna, the most remarkable woman he would ever know. Compassionate and caring to a fault. Yet traits he wouldn’t have her give up for the world. She was his flame. Dangerous and tempting, but at the same time, warm and comforting. Forever a contradiction, and far more complex than he had ever given her credit for in the past.

And forever she would stand just beyond his reach.

He’d never know what he had done to bring her back to him, and as much as he wanted to ask, he knew he never would. She was everything, and he was nothing. And he would never risk chancing it. She was superior to him in every way, and he didn’t mind the inferiority. Not with her. With her, he welcomed it. Adored it.

He even felt embarrassed as he sat there, quiet, half dressed, not fit for her presence. The balance between them skewed but perfect. He wore only a pair of fresh trousers and a crisp linen shirt; his feet bare upon his cot. He should have been dressed better for her, but then how could he know when Anna’s whims would match his own?

She stared absently at his toes.

“Take off your shirt and come here,” she instructed, still staring at his bare feet. There was something decidedly intimate about the way she looked at him, seeing him half dressed, almost ready for bed, and his belly fluttered at the thought that she might be pleased with him. That she might like what she was seeing.

And for a brief, flittering moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Soft and quiet, with a tenderness so frightening it might be the death of him.

He obeyed her command, a warm pleasantness filling him as he accomplished his task for her. His long legs stretched out and his bare feet stole across his cell towards her, quicker than usual, and she’d tease him for being too eager.

She didn’t. Not tonight. And he should have seen the warning then.

He stopped just in front of her, catching her delicate, feminine scent accented by the soap that still hung in the air. It excited him. He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it lightly onto his cot. Doing his best to not look too keen.

She’d come back to him. Twice in one day.

“Turn around, let me see your back.”

He turned around, mildly disappointed as Anna inspected the wound she’d inflicted earlier. It’d been properly cleaned and tended to, but to his surprise, she still seemed concerned about it. He didn’t understand why. What had happened was the past, an accident. She hadn’t done it on purpose. There was no point in dwelling on it. It wasn’t even a bad injury.

He thought he ought to tell her that, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite bring the words to his tongue. The need to reassure a foreign concept to him.

She reached her hand out, her fingers softly grazing his flesh, and he flinched at her touch as she followed the gash across his back. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head no.

“Not even a little?” she asked.

He choked back a laugh. What did it matter to her if it did? “It stings a bit,” he answered. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

The words made him instantly uncomfortable. He shrugged, trying to brush it off. “You don’t need to apologize—”

“—But I do.” Her hand left him, though she remained close. The familiarity of her breath, hot and inviting across his bare back gave way to the urge to lean into her, but he remained still. He heard her unscrewing a lid. “You are under my care, and I hurt you. I’ve asked for your obedience, and I failed that trust. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

He did not like this one bit. She was too solemn. Too serious. Too concerned, and over him. He didn’t deserve it. Not from her. Never from her. He’d hurt her far worse than this. They had a _history_. She had to remember _that_. There was no way it could ever be forgotten.

He’d drawn that line. She wouldn’t dare cross it. _She wouldn’t_. He’d set up his boundaries in stone and spike. He’d never made any mention, any apology, for what he’d done to her in the past. What they had now existed on him being terrible, unsalvageable, irredeemable.

He needed that disgust, that hurt from her while she punished him. He needed to know he was bad, that he deserved it. That each lick of pain had been well earned with his treachery. That each touch of her hand caressing him was agony, torture, because he wanted her, and yet, he could never have her. A constant reminder that he’d been the one to ruin everything between them.

That he’d had her and lost her.

Her sympathy was never something he’d sought out or wanted. He couldn’t deal with that. He could take her anger, her contempt, but her compassion? Her guilt? No. He needed to nip it in the bud now, before she slipped past his barriers and got in.

“It’s barely a scratch, hardly anything—”

“Hans,” she said sternly, her tone making him instantly shut up. A panic now welling up inside of him. He drew in a careful breath as she continued, her voice too gentle, “It is something. You got hurt because I wasn’t careful. I screwed up. Me. I want you to know it won’t happen again and that I’m really sorry.”

He nodded, but remained silent. Ever wary of this new ground they were now treading on. He knew better than to trust kindness. Kindness was only cruelty wearing a mask, and yet when she spoke, he seemed to forget the very wisdom that had kept him alive all these years.

Because he believed her. Every word of it.

“I brought some ointment,” she said, before applying the balm to his skin as gently as she could. He winced, and she noticed, softening her touch. “You are mine, and I’m going to take care of you.”

The force of those few simple words hit him. Instant and unexpected. Like a dagger to his heart. He sucked in a ragged breath, his body quaking, his composure rapidly deteriorating. With one sentence, she’d stripped him of all his defenses.

_You are mine._

He’d never been anybody’s. No one had ever staked their claim on him. No one had ever wanted to. Not once for all the teasing and jokes about being a pet had he seriously thought she actually wanted him.

But she was quite serious.

It was more than he could ever have hoped for.

She did want him. Even after everything he’d done to her.

And she fully intended to take care of him regardless of all of that. Maybe even because of all that.

Everything went out of focus, the room suddenly spinning.

_Oh God_.

He was hers. He was _hers_. The absolute truth of it resonated in his bones. And he’d never felt more complete, more at home. _Home_. He bit back a sob, cancelling out the sound while the tears escaped, hot and silent, spilling down his face.

It was too much. _Too much_. She was too close, too soft, too gentle. Too damn safe. Her fingers on his back making him yearn for her touch more than anything in the entire world. In his entire existence. All that mattered was Anna, and that he belonged to her. When he was with Anna, he was _somebody_. Finally worthwhile.

He’d spent his entire life searching for the place where he fit. And he could get lost here with her. In her touch. In her.

His long-sought home.

It was a dangerous thought. She’d opened him up, slipped through his barriers, and he couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t see him raw, vulnerable. So goddamned needy that it physically hurt.

It was supposed to be a lark. A game. Some stupid little indulgence Anna had needed, and he, bored and sexually stimulated, had indulged her. He wasn’t supposed to find what he’d been searching for his entire life here.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. He couldn’t let her in. Not now. Not ever. The moment she realized what she’d done to him, that he was weeping for God’s sake—

“Sextant!” The word tumbled past his lips in an instant. One desperate cry like he was an animal backed into a corner, panicked and afraid, ready to snarl and bite at that soft, gentle hand tending to his wounds.

Her hand was off his back, off his wound immediately. She’d even stepped away from him. Stopping.

_Like she promised_.

It had hurt him even more that she had actually stopped. That she had respected his boundaries. That she had kept to their arrangement and ended things the moment he’d said their word. He’d half expected her not to, and that shamed him. He wasn’t sure that if he’d been in her position, he would have done the same.

She had to be angry. Had to be furious with him. Stopping over something so stupid. She wasn’t even _hurting_ him. She was there to help. There wasn’t any sex. By all accounts, this was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. There was no need for it. He was being a baby. He awaited her retaliation. Her fury.

None came.

The lid being screwed back on her jar of ointment broke the deafening silence. And Hans closed his eyes, wanting to brush away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling, but at the same time not wanting to let her know that she’d broken his armour. Broken him.

He breathed deeply, trying to compose himself, humiliated that his shoulders shuddered instead. That he was visibly shaking. She had to know. Had to be aware that he was crying. Crying over nothing. Sobbing like a child.

“Can I come back later?” she asked. Calm, patient, gentle. Not even a hint of disgust or anger in her voice.

He nodded, sniffing. “Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head no, unable to steady his voice enough to utter another word.

She was silent for a moment before speaking again. “Get some rest, dear heart. You’ve had a hard day being brave.”

He could only nod. Wanting nothing more than to curl up onto his cot and cry properly without her watching him.

Dear heart, she’d called him. Brave.

_You are mine, and I’m going to take care of you_.


	16. Chapter 16

Her immediate instinct was to go to him after breakfast. Check on him as soon as possible. She worried herself sick over what had happened last night.

Fighting back a yawn, she stretched. Her eyes bleary and sore. She’d managed a few hours of sleep, but always with Hans on her mind.

She’d ruined everything, and half wanted to stay hidden under her bedsheets than venture down to the dungeons to see him this morning.

She’d made him cry.

The scene was still so fresh in her mind. She had done that. She’d hurt him so badly that he’d cried, that he’d used their safe word to end what she hadn’t even thought of as play. His rejection stung, like vinegar on a fresh cut.

In the span of a few hours, she had managed to alienate herself from everyone she loved.

Hans wanted nothing to do with her. He’d said his injury was not a big deal, but he’d been lying. It was. She had been so careful, so gentle when she touched him, and it was painful enough that he had cried. She’d never seen a man cry before. Well, technically she hadn’t actually seen his face to know he was crying, but his body language and voice had easily filled in the blanks to confirm that he was.

It had been horrifying, and she had wanted nothing more than to draw him into her arms and hold him until it had all drained away. Until he was okay, until she had made it better. Made amends.

But then he’d said it.

_Sextant._

And everything came to a halt. She hadn’t been able to finish what she had started. She hadn’t been able to look after him like she’d promised. He had rejected her, no longer trusting her. No longer wanting her near him.

And it had hurt.

She swallowed down her own unshed tears that threatened to fall if she so much as blinked. It hurt and it was her own damn fault.

It was insane for her to want to cry over _Hans_. She’d spilled more than enough tears over him in the past. And yet, she could never seem to rid herself of him. She always seemed to go back. She had sought him out all on her own, knowing full well the risk she was opening herself up to again, and she hadn’t cared. Another piece of herself found.

Because Hans could invoke passionate emotion in her.

And the allure of feeling something, _anything_ , any authentic emotion freely had been too great. Even if it was sorrow. Even if it was loathing and anger. Guilt. She had needed it the way she needed air to breathe. She’d been so stifled, suffocated, confined to her roles and responsibilities. Both Elsa and Kristoff’s needs and desires outweighing her own, choking her out of their garden like she was a weed.

She had just needed the breath of fresh air.

That feeling she got only when she was with Hans.

Hans had always been content to just let her be herself. Even when they had first met, there was no judgment, no mockery or sarcasm. No matter what she said or suggested, Hans had been happy to indulge her, participate and lose himself in the moment. With him, she had been free, and for her, none of that had been a lie. He had been deceiving her, yes, but she hadn’t deceived herself.

It was true he’d been playing a role, coaxing her into his web of deception at the time, but even Anna knew that the best lies were the little ones hidden under a mountain of truths. And only Hans knew what his truths that night had been, but Anna was convinced there had been some.

Otherwise they wouldn’t have the arrangement they had now.

She had to see him this morning. Needed to know where they stood. He had said she could come back, but would they be able to go back to the way they had been? Or was he finished with their arrangement? She wouldn’t blame him if he was finished with her. It would be her luck anyway, but she’d do her damnedest to keep it.

She wasn’t giving up that easily. Not now. Not when she was retrieving her missing pieces.

She’d spent too long letting her negative emotions get the best of her. Something she had always taken pride in controlling in the past. Whatever the world threw at her, Anna had always been able to keep her head up and face each task with a degree of optimism. She could always present the world with a smile and positive outlook. Always see the silver lining and carry hope that things would get better.

And now it was challenging.

After last night, her confidence hadn’t been restored like she had hoped.

She could barely look at Elsa sitting across from her without scowling at her. Without wanting to snark and snip. Scream. She could hardly bring herself to care about any of what Elsa was saying this morning, because Elsa was always centered around Elsa. And it drove Anna crazy.

Her sister’s problems and worries had always been of the upmost importance to Anna in the past, but not today. Today she didn’t want to fix Elsa’s problems. She wanted to fix her own.

It was liberating in a way for her, to sit at the breakfast table and just not care that Elsa was stressed over fishing agreements with Vakretta, or that she was expressing regret over Anna not being present at dinner last night.

Anna no longer felt the desire to sit patiently and listen to her sister bemoan and lament, hanging on Elsa’s every word like she’d always done in the past, trying to find a way to cheer her sister up. Always fretting over Elsa’s wellbeing.

Anna had better things to do. Things that revolved around herself and her own happiness.

At first, she had thought to unleash a storm of anger and resentment onto her sister over her meddlesome behaviour into Anna’s love life, but doing such a thing would not suit Anna’s purpose at all. She learned a valuable lesson about unchecked anger in the dungeon, and was not quick to repeat the same mistake twice.

There was no point in making her situation worse. Not when it didn’t have to be, if she was smart about it. She’d spent her life walking a tightrope of concealed emotion, and now she could do it for her sake instead of others. Biding her time, waiting for the silver lining.

But _good lord_ it was hard.

It was apparent that Elsa already knew of Kristoff’s plans to move Anna to the mountains and set up a proper house in his cabin. The lack of surprise on Elsa’s face giving her away well before her words did. She and Kristoff had spoken at length on the topic, well before anyone had thought to mention it to Anna.

The way her sister lorded that information over her infuriated her.

She resented that most of all.

The co-conspiring in secret over her wellbeing, over her life, as though she could not be trusted to make the right decisions. As though she didn’t need to be consulted. As though she were nothing more than a wayward child, needing to be controlled, needing to be protected and supervised.

Well, the joke was on them. Anna had her own secrets. Her own life, and starting today, she no longer felt guilty about it. About any of what she had started with Hans. She refused to feel guilt or shame over what she had done. If Elsa and Kristoff could have secret meetings about her without her, then she could keep her own secrets without remorse.

_Besides_ , she thought ruefully, _I’m only doing what’s best for them_.

She’d go to Hans after breakfast. That was easily decided. Talk to him, see where his head was at, see if they could still continue their meetings, see if he still wanted her to. If she had a hope in hell of fixing what she’d broken.

“It’s not such a terrible idea if you think about it,” Elsa was saying, regarding Kristoff’s plans to move them to his cabin. “I know you think this is all Bulda’s fault, but she wasn’t wrong to suggest it. She has your best interests at heart too.”

Bulda? Anna very nearly rolled her eyes in disgust. _Of course_. Of course, her mother-in-law would have had something to do with the awful idea of moving her to the mountains. Why was she not surprised? Bulda had been an increasingly sharper thorn in Anna’s side right from the get go.

And of course, Kristoff had neglected to mention that little detail to her, presenting the dreadful plan as his own. No doubt bullied by his family again. What she wouldn’t give for Kristoff to grow a bit of spine and stand up to his family and not back down. Just once. But Kristoff was too easy going for confrontation, and Anna, while he cared for her, was not worth the fight with his family. She knew that now.

It hurt. The truth of their relationship still scraped at her heart, leaving her sore and defeated. Kristoff was _not_ her true love, and had put on that title, that disguise, because he had cared enough for her to protect her from further slander. He’d done what any good friend would have done, only he’d gone about it in completely the wrong way.

It was a shame they had never been given the chance to test out their relationship properly and seen what it might have been had it developed organically and without interference.

At the same time, it was a relief to know the truth. A heavy weight lifted from her heart to know that the reason her marriage lacked passion and romance was not her fault. Nor was it something she had gotten wrong. Her dreams of true love were not youthful folly. Such romances did exist, just not for her.

She really had settled, but then so had Kristoff. Neither of them had deserved that. She knew the affection between them would never develop past friendship, and that Kristoff had done what he had thought was right. Was honourable. She couldn’t fault him that. He was a good man deep down who was trying to do his best by her, and for that, she was sorry. For that, she would try to love him, try to be a good wife, the wife he should have. It wasn’t his fault he’d been an instrument in both Elsa and his family’s plans. His sweeter nature taken advantage of. Likely guilted into marriage by his obnoxious family.

But while she may have been willing to give up her happiness and chance at true love, she was not willing to give up her sanity. She needed to be able to keep her balance. In fact, she planned to seek it out in the only way she knew how. With Hans. If he’d let her after last night.

God, that was going to take time.

Suddenly she had an idea. A way that maybe she could put off her move to the mountains. She needed more time to fix things. Perhaps she could convince Elsa it’d be best to keep her around for awhile. After all, she was already expressing regret in not having Anna present when dealing with the Vakretta dignitaries. If Anna could prove she was an asset…

“I was thinking,” Anna broached carefully, “that I might take on a larger role here at the castle, before I leave, you know, so that when I do, you’ve cleared off some of your plate. I’d hate to leave knowing you’re swamped.” She smiled sweetly at Elsa. _Let me help. Let me stay. Just for a little while longer._

“You know,” Elsa said, putting down her coffee cup, “that’s not a bad idea, actually. You’ve always been the more personable one, and I think things would have gone better with Vakretta had you been there buttering them up first.”

Anna smiled. _Yes_. _You need me here._

“And I admit,” Elsa added after a mouthful of breakfast, “I’m not keen having you move during the winter. It’d be much better to plan the move for spring when the weather is nicer and the mountains are safer—Oh! That reminds me! The Southern Isles trade agreements are due for renegotiations in the spring. Yes—” and Elsa was almost talking to herself now— “yes, I’ll most certainly need you here for that. We can use every advantage.”

“Why’s that?” Anna asked, not really caring why Elsa would need her here and feigning interest, excited that her inevitable move was being pushed back.

“Prince Lennart should be arriving early spring—”

“—One of Hans’s brothers?” Anna asked in surprise.

A shadow passed over Elsa’s face at the mention of Hans, and Anna internally scolded herself for mentioning him by name. The last thing she wanted was suspicion from Elsa or for her sister to backtrack and decide that maybe it was best Anna moved in the winter.

“Yes,” Elsa answered. “Seems he’s been sent to replace his brother as our Southern Isles Ambassador. I think it’ll help with reworking the trade agreements to our favour having you in sight, you know…after everything.”

Her jaw dropped and she quickly snapped it shut. She had to have heard wrong. Elsa would never use her in such a way. Play on her disgrace, on Hans’s indiscretions to guilt the Southern Isles into a more lenient trade agreement.

Trying to keep her voice from wavering, and treading a thin line, she ventured, “I’ve no experience with trade, perhaps instead I could—”

“That won’t really matter,” Elsa replied plainly. “You being present serves as a reminder of the Southern Isles guilt. They’ll have no choice but to grant what we want.” Elsa sighed, her brows knitting into a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, Anna. Sometimes we have to be ruthless in rule, and the Southern Isles trade agreement has always been slanted to their favour. It’s good we can turn such a negative experience for both of us into a positive. Use it as an advantage. Make it a strength instead of a weakness.”

She had a point, but _still_.

“Of course,” Anna replied stiffly, silently appalled, but knowing it was best to keep her mouth shut. She couldn’t risk Elsa changing her mind. Dealing with the Southern Isles prince was the ticket she needed to remain at the palace. Neither Kristoff, nor the trolls, could override the queen, and Anna needed Elsa on her side for this to work.

“It’d be much more effective with you; your easy warmth and optimism can inspire far more regret and guilt than my stoic demeanor can.” Elsa drummed her fingers on the table, thinking. “I wouldn’t do it unless I thought it was necessary. I’m not thrilled about it, but far too long have the Southern Isles taken advantage of our trade, and with Weselton out of the picture, we need this negotiation to go in our favour.”

“I understand,” Anna replied dutifully, masking her disapproval with support. “And as always, I am at your disposal.”

Pleased that she’d gotten that settled and out of the way, she hurried through her breakfast, ready to go see Hans. Her tenacity back in full swing. She was not giving up on him yet. Not while she still had hope.


	17. Chapter 17

Anna had never felt as unsure of herself as she did the moment she met his eye. He immediately glanced away, almost at the very sight of her. He did not stand at attention like he normally did for her. She bit her lip, the silence between them thick.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, venturing further into the room and standing in front of his cell, so she could see him clearly. She didn’t know what else to say.

“Hey.”

“I…uh…” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m okay now,” he said quietly, still not meeting her eye, withdrawn on his cot like a wounded animal. “I’m sor…” he paused, staring purposely at the stone wall of his cell, “I…apologize for last night. I didn’t mean for you to see that. It…was a moment of weakness.”

Her chest tightened at the shame she heard in his words. At his disgust in his tears.

“I’m supposed to see that,” she answered just as quietly. “It’s not just your pleasure that belongs to me. It’s your tears too. It’s everything. It’s all important to me because you are mine…” She hesitated. “At least, I think you still are?”

He looked at her then, his eyes glassy and red rimmed, and Anna wasn’t sure if he’d spent his night crying his eyes out, but he certainly looked like he had. She was beginning to doubt it had been his injury that had made him cry as she had originally thought.

“I am.”

“You don’t want to stop?” she asked, quickly adding, “Because it’s okay if you want to—”

He shook his head, swallowing hard. “I don’t ever want to stop.” He became uncharacteristically fidgety then, and he furrowed his brows, trying to put his thoughts into words. “I need this.” He rubbed his hands over his face, a self-deprecating laugh falling short on his lips. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, his voice trembling, “God, I need this so badly.”

And she understood. In that moment, in that small admission, she knew she’d never be as close to anyone as she was to Hans.

“I need this too,” she admitted, and his breath hitched, his eyes sharper and focused on her.

“You do?”

She bit her lip, nodding. Not sure how to go about expressing anything she felt either or any conclusion she had come to recently. “Do…do you ever feel like everything is wrong? Like you’ve messed up so badly—” She stopped, suddenly aware of who she was speaking to and what she was saying.

He raised his eyebrows, his lips drawn tight and grim, answering her with a pointed stare.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, heat rising to her cheeks.

He grinned a little. “It’s nothing less than I deserve. I know that.”

“I’m not…” _God,_ why was this so difficult to say? She had been so ready last night, and now she felt embarrassed and stupid and crazy. But he waited patiently for her to continue, so she took a deep breath. “I’m not angry anymore…with you.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You should be.”

She shook her head. He wasn’t getting it, understanding it. “I’m not…it’s done…for me, at least.” She bit her lip, debating how he’d take her next words and knowing she couldn’t take them back once said. Knowing what she was about to say was a risk and would open herself up to him. “Hans, I don’t hate you anymore either.”

He flinched as though she’d slapped him smartly across the face.

“That’s not playing fair.”

She shrugged. “When have you ever?”

He glanced away and she was worried she was losing him, that this wouldn’t work. She needed him to understand. Needed to make this right.

“I’ve been angry for far too long, and I’m tired. I’m tired of it,” she explained, and it was the truth. She didn’t want to be this person anymore, and it had taken her months of flogging a man, of teasing, of manipulating, of dominating Hans for her to finally reach that conclusion. “It’s not who I am.”

He nodded his head, drawing his knees up to his chest, a flicker of panic on his face, and he looked so scared in that moment. Fragile and needy and if she broke this—

“What if…what if I need you to be? What if this doesn’t work unless you hate me? I…I need to know I’m bad. That it’s nothing less than what I deserve…for everything.”

And there it was. What Hans was really getting from their arrangements.

“I haven’t forgiven you…you know, for all that happened, all you did,” she began carefully, her voice tight. She had never wanted to bring up their past, but things had changed. Things were always changing. “And I’ve not forgotten it…I’m just, well, _done_ being angry about it. What you did to me was awful…treacherous…but not completely unforgiveable. And I just don’t hate you for it anymore.”

“And if I said _I_ still hated _me_ for it?”

She paused, thinking. Could she still give him what he needed even if her conditions had been satisfied? Could she still grant him pain? Punishments?

_Yes_.

Their plays had never been real for her, the act of dominating him had always been make believe, when for him, she now realized, it was a very real punishment. Something that made him feel like he was atoning for his sins. She had given him a safe place to face his crimes and feel his guilt, and maybe even come to terms in his own way with their past. He needed her to play the role of haughty, harsh mistress, just as he needed to be her submissive, little puppy. It was helping him, just as it had helped her.

Only he needed more time with it than she did. Maybe he would always need it.

She couldn’t begin to imagine how much pride he’d had to swallow to even say such things aloud to her, but then, she’d stripped him of his pride quite some time ago, so maybe it was easier for him to say what he was really thinking. Her humbled, compliant prince.

He looked different to her today, but then that was only natural. Both of them had changed. Hardly the same two people they had been when they’d started this agreement. He was no longer the brash, arrogant mongrel of a prince, but her pet—docile, well-trained, and eager to please. Maybe even loyal.

When was the last time she’d actually granted him any sort of relief? Rewarded him? She thought back through the months. Surprised to find it had been before her wedding. Had she really neglected him for that long? She felt a little bad about that. Had he waited for her? Abstaining all these months?

She’d have to rectify that, but something had to be different. Meaningful for her, just as it would be for him. They’d be entering a new contract now. The same rules, only this time, the motivation had changed. Now it was for him. She was the one helping him and he’d earned a special reward for enduring her months of melancholy and neglect. For surviving her unbridled rage.

She could be a different master to him than before. This time, she’d work at being more focused on his needs. She’d look after him as though he were a proper pet. Generous and compassionate but still stern and commanding.

And just like that, she was inspired to play with him again.

She gave him a sly, tight-lipped smile, the wheels in her head already turning. “Then I’d say perhaps you still need to be punished. I’m still very capable of spanking you…puppy.”

The exhale of relief from him made her heart skip an unexpected beat. They were going to be okay. Maybe better than okay. For the first time in ages, she felt like she had actually been able to fix something. Maybe not a perfect mend, but it was something she had done on her own, and it would hold.

And that made her excited. It was good to feel like herself again.

 

“Thank you, my lady.” And he’d never meant the words more than he did saying them now.

He’d never felt freer, or more comfortable in his own skin. Most like himself. Anna had done that to him, and he was Anna’s. He _belonged_ to Anna. It was the scariest thing he had ever done, willingly grant ownership of himself to someone, but he could think of no other way he’d rather be. He liked being a pet. Her pet. He was better with Anna, and that was a good thing.

This time, he was ready for her. Ready to submit completely to her.

She hadn’t said it to him plainly, but he was important to her. He knew it just in the way she looked at him. In the way she cared about last night. The way his feelings, no matter how embarrassed he was by them, mattered to her. In the way that she would continue to look after him, even though her end of their bargain had been met. Anna had found herself. That had been obvious from the moment she arrived this morning. He could see the clarity and truth of it in her. She didn’t need to stay on for his sake, but she was. She chose him.

He was finally special.

He wanted to cry again, only this time with joy because the heavy cloud that had been dogging him his whole life had finally dissipated, letting the sun shine down on him. Anna, his sun. Radiant and beautiful, and always a necessity. She was worth the terror he’d felt in opening himself up and letting her in.

Last night he’d been so scared, so horrified, but seeing her again, seeing the concern etched across her face, hearing her speak…he could do it. He could trust her completely. He _wanted_ to. More than anything, he wanted to be hers.

Nothing could stay the same. He knew that now. Just as he knew the reason he’d wanted it to was because he was afraid to move on, to move past their history and atone, work to make things right. Anna was moving on from their history, and while he couldn’t quite let it go yet, it meant something to him that she could wait for him. That she was still willing to give him what he needed from this.

Because he was hers, and she was keeping to her word. Anyone else would have given up on him already.

His thoughts were cut off by her speaking to him. Speaking to him in what he’d come to know as her ‘my lady’ voice, and each and every one of his senses came alive in response. It’d been so long since he’d heard her talk like that. Like she owned him.

“We’re going to do something different today,” she stated brusquely, suddenly turning away from him and facing the opposite direction so all he could see was her back. “All I require from you today is your eyes, but you must stay sitting where you are. You are allowed to speak.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She was doing something with her hands that he couldn’t see. He crooked his neck to try and steal a glimpse at what she was doing, but until she turned to face him, he’d have no idea. “Stay still, puppy, all in good time. I just need you to watch.”

His jaw went slack as her bodice fell away from her body, slipping over her shoulders and off her arms and onto the floor. He stared in stunned silence. She was disrobing right in front of him! Never in his wildest dreams had he expected such an act. He had to be dreaming. His mouth went dry as her blouse quickly followed, and then her skirt. The fabric spilling to the floor, his eyes locked on her, not daring to blink for fear he might miss something.

He could most certainly sit here and watch her. In fact, he could do that quite well. She wouldn’t have even had to have given the order. He would have done it anyway. It would be no trouble at all to obey.

Her hands moved to her back and she began to unlace her corset. She fumbled with the laces at first, but was practiced enough to loosen the corset herself once the knots were undone. Hans watched with rapt attention as the undergarment became wide enough that she slipped it with ease over her head. Her naked back in full view, making his pulse race.

She was perfect. _Perfect_. To the point where he ached just staring at her. She bent forward, her pert little bottom sticking out towards him and his cock jerked with immediate need, his erection straining against his trousers and his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

They’d played this game well enough that by now, he’d learned how to temper his desire and could keep himself in check, but Anna’s unpredictability was always both a challenge and a delight in testing his limits. And after months of neglect, he was most certainly at his limits.

Her drawers fell to the floor and he gawked at her perfectly round, perfectly supple and fully exposed buttocks. The urge to dip his tongue in the divots of the two dimples above her glorious ass made him lick his lips and bite his bottom lip slowly. Salivating.

What he wouldn’t give to do that before sinking his teeth into that soft, pale flesh. Nipping her just enough to tease the line between pleasure and pain, hard enough to leave his mark on her, stake his claim and let her husband know, but soft enough that she’d want more.

She inhaled deeply, her shoulder blades drawing up tight and then relaxing on the exhale, reminding him of the way a cat flexed before pouncing, graceful and effortless. She was mesmerizing, naked before him save for her stockings and leather slippers. Straight out of the most illicit fantasy he could conjure up.

He’d been undressing her in his mind since they’d met at the docks, a lifetime ago, really. Not once had he thought he’d actually get to see her nude, even if it was only her backside. He had always assumed that even with their arrangement, it would never happen. Foolishness on his part. He should have known by now to expect the unexpected with Anna.

She was almost exactly how he’d envisioned her, right down to just how many freckles peppered her skin. He knew her shoulders, and the slope of her spine from memory, remembering her ball gown the day they’d met and how it had rendered him utterly stupid. How she had turned him into a bumbling idiot on sight.

He suspected, quite rightly, that she was about to do it again to him. She turned to face him, and everything but her faded away. To his credit, his eyes did not meet her naked breasts first, nor any place lower than her head.

No, it was her eyes he saw first, desired to see more than anything else, because in her eyes there was always the hope that he’d find a clue or an answer to what Anna was thinking, what she was feeling. And today, he saw something in her eye he’d never seen before and couldn’t recognize.

Her lip quirked in amusement. “You’re allowed to look, silly. I’d thought it obvious you could.”

“I am looking,” he said, barely trusting his voice to work or for his words not to sound stupid. “You want me to see you, and I do.”

Her whole body flushed pink, the amused smile now quiet and shy, her hand brushing a nonexistent piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re not supposed to say things like that to a girl unless you mean it.”

“I do.” _God_ , had he really just said that out loud to her? She had a way of disarming him, prying out bits of his truths, and he felt the heat of embarrassment sear across his face. He was talking like some lovelorn fool, and he couldn’t possibly love Anna, could he? He’d never really thought about it before. Had never entertained the idea, had always shut it down…until now.

_You like her._

And now he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.

She looked flustered, her tongue darting out across her lips in a quick lick, on the cusp of saying something she wasn’t sure she should. And in the blink of an eye, his mistress was gone, replaced by just Anna. She gulped nervously. “I’m naked and you haven’t even looked.”

“That’s not true,” he answered, trying to sound suave and winsome and questioning every damn thing he was saying, and trying to ignore how sweaty his palms were. “I most definitely looked at your backside. Perhaps I just want to take my time with the front.”

She grinned at him, that absolutely winsome smile that was so much the girl who had stolen his breath away the night of her sister’s coronation. His heart hurt at the memory while his erection pressed firmly against his trousers.

“You can go ahead and undo those,” she said, nodding at his trousers as if she’d read his mind. He wasted little time unfastening the buttons, and shoving the fabric down his legs. His cock standing proudly at attention for her, batting against his belly button. She giggled. “Always so eager.”

“You’re standing naked in front of me, my reaction should hardly be unexpected.” He wasn’t sure if he sounded charming or idiotic, or why he was so concerned with how he sounded in the first place.

“Just keep your eyes on me,” she replied, regaining a lick of haughtiness in her tone that aroused him beyond measure.

“Of course, my lady.”

Her hands went to her breasts, delicately cupping the two soft mounds, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe, any flirty rapport he’d managed to strike up, gone from his lips. And _holy mother of God_ , she was touching herself. Touching herself in front of him— _for_ him. His cock twitched impatiently at the sight, and he swallowed a small gulp as she took each nipple between her forefinger and thumb, twisting and rolling the buds until they stiffened, erect and aroused from her attentions.

He’d kill to suckle those pert, steepled delights until she moaned with pleasure. To worship her like the goddess she was, and he, her devout servant.

She let out a dreamy sigh, her eyes flickering closed as she continued to tease and play with her breasts, and Hans squirmed in his seat, unable to ignore the call of his loins for much longer. The need to touch himself excruciating.

“Are you agitated, pet?” she asked, her eyes still closed and expression languid, her hands still playing as she arched her back slightly, inadvertently pointing her breasts further out towards him. He stifled an appreciative groan at the sight. His tip beading with precum.

_Pet_. She’d called him _pet_.

“Yes,” he answered, not daring to jinx it and ask for relief.

Her hands stayed and she opened her eyes, and Hans watched her as she moved closer to the bars almost swaying as though entranced in a dance. She looked him straight in the eye before she pressed her body up against the iron that separated them. She grabbed a bar firmly with one hand, and he inhaled sharply, enthralled as she hiked one leg up over the horizontal support bar that ran midway across the door to his cell, hooking one slender leg through the bars, and effectively giving him a shameless view of her exposed and spread womanhood. Pink and delicious, swollen and glistening in arousal.

“Do I have your full attention?” He could hear the coyness in her voice, and it was enough to have him spend right then and there, if she’d ask it of him.

He could only nod, transfixed on her wet, waiting pussy. Her folds glossy in the dim light, her clit peaking out from its hood, hard and ready to be touched. A perfect pearl of pleasure, amidst luscious pink petals waiting for attention. All framed in delectable, damp strawberry blonde curls. A feast if he ever saw one.

If she touched herself _down there_ …he licked his lips again, unable to rid himself of the parched feeling in his throat.

He didn’t think he could open his eyes any wider, and the need to stroke his cock, to imagine what it would feel like to sheath himself in the soft, liquid heat was surely going to be the death of him. His cock bucked violently with need, precum dripping from his head and sliding down his shaft, weeping for her, wanting her in a way he’d never really dared think of before.

He couldn’t help it. Not now, not while she was purposely showcasing all her goods, and for him, and him alone. It was too great a thrill. He had to sit on his hands. Restraint, a losing battle, the need to touch his cock almost all consuming.

“Please,” he whispered. “My lady, _please_.”

“In a minute, Hans,” she chided softly with a grin, and he thought he’d die hearing his name on her lips like that. “Just watch for a bit first. You can do that well, can’t you, my sweet?”

He swallowed, hard and audible, but nodded. _Hans_. _My sweet_. He could watch, God, he wanted to watch. It wasn’t even a question. Watch as those dainty fingers moved to her muff and played herself to immaculate pleasure.

He whimpered, his body on fire, the heat of perfect passion, white and hot, igniting him as her hand drifted to her cunt. She gave a satisfied purr of contentment as her finger slid achingly slow along her slick folds. “I like to tease myself a little first,” she breathed, her dreamy gaze meeting his. “It’s fun to hold back and not go rushing in—” she winked at him, “—half cocked.”

He could only nod stupidly in response. All blood had long gone from his brain to his swollen prick, rendering him senseless to anything but sex.

She moaned, her tempo picking up, and her finger sliding long and hard, now including her clit, captivated him. The soft, sloshing sound of her sex highlighting her display. She was wet. So goddamned wet that he could hear her desire from where he sat.

And it was killing him.

“ _Ahh_ … _hnnn_ …that’s good,” she sighed, lost in her own pleasure. “It’s important to be completely aroused, that makes it so much easier when I do this—”

—And two fingers went straight into her cunt, pushing deep.

Hans groaned loudly, unable to help himself, his own hips gyrating, fucking the air as his ass cheeks rubbed on his hands. He matched her rhythm, his mind replacing her fingers with his rock hard cock, pumping in and out of her while she writhed against her hand, while her face flushed with radiance. While she fucked herself for him.

It was perfect. There was nothing she could do that could possibly make this moment better than it already—

“Here, boy!” she gasped out the command, half moaning the words at him. Her expression pure, heady lust, eyes heavy lidded and glazed and _wanting_. The hand that had been clutching the cell bar briefly let go, and she crooked her finger at him, beckoning him over to her. The lewdest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

And he slipped into madness.

He moved on carnal instinct alone, on absolute need, like an animal. A primal response to his mistress. His master. He was at the bars to meet her instantaneously, hovering, anxious for her next command. The scent of her sweat and sex assaulting his nostrils and stirring his senses, heightening everything.

“Closer, pet, I want you pressed up against the bars too.”

He hesitated. Aching. He’d break a rule if he was _that_ close. He wasn’t allowed to touch her. It had been drilled into him. Those were the rules, her rules—

The hand she’d been fucking herself with shot forward, her fingers slick with the liquid of her sex, grabbing him firmly by his hip and jerking him forward, leaving a trail of her wetness behind on his skin. Branding him with her heat, with her desire.

Thrown off balance, he fell heavily against the bars. A soft ‘oh’ rushed past his lips the moment he felt _her_. Her raised leg over the bar had her pelvis matched to his, her other leg, he realized, had her balanced on her tippy toe.

His cock pressed right up against her mound. The sensation of her skin, her heat, her curls, her cunt on him, very nearly made him lose his damn mind forever. He could hardly focus on anything, his lust ramped up and control wavering. Desperate and needy, he looked at her for instructions. Frantic for them. He needed her orders. Her commands.

_Tell me what to do._

She met his eyes, hers, the deepest blue and filled with insatiable passion that he was a part of. That she had invited him into. He’d never fallen so hard so fast. He’d do anything for her. Anything.

“Touch yourself. Fuck yourself with me and _come_ ,” she moaned euphorically as though she were a nymph in some bacchian display of hedonism and debauchery. And he, drunk on pleasure, on _her_ , more than willing to oblige, to slake his lust and have his fill.

He grasped his throbbing cock, squeezing hard, each stroke of his fist rubbing against her, the back of her hand soft on his knuckles. He met her moan for moan, pant for pant, stroke for stroke, their eyes locked on each other’s, their mouths close enough to kiss, sharing the same breath between them as they moved together in a harried pantomime of sex.

He’d have kissed her if he could have. If she had given him that right, but she hadn’t, and it was torture. Torture to feel such pleasure with her, to be this close to her and still not be close enough.

Even with their sexual release close at hand, gratification on the horizon, it was just enough that he was in agony, wanting more of her than she would give—when she had already given him more than what was expected, what the rules had been.

She gasped, her delicate lips parting in a never-ending inhale and he wanted to bite that plump, wet, lower lip and drag his teeth until it pulled, until it _hurt,_ as her face contorted into rapture. She came gloriously, pleasant little sighs and moans as her body convulsed and trembled, signalling his own orgasm. He came hard, in great gushing spurts alongside her while they stared each other in the eye. Neither looking away, even when the intense euphoria crashed into wearied, mutual bliss.

_God, the eye contact_.

His favourite way to come.

She didn’t move from the bars for the moments after and neither did he. The closeness too great an indulgence. They continued to meet each other’s soft pants, their breath mingling, their noses almost touching. So close, and still so far away. The iron bars infuriating, keeping him away from where he wanted to be most of all. In her arms. In _her_.

The heat of their skin his only comfort, giving the illusion that he was one with her, connecting them, their musk combined, an aphrodisiac that could have him hard again in minutes if he kept this close, kept breathing it in. He never wanted to leave her. He could stand here like this for eternity.

And it hurt. Pricked his very soul.

It was without a doubt, the cruelest punishment she’d served him yet. A delicious agony tailor fit for him, and only him.

Perfection.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his mind befuddled and thoughts a tangled mess, except for one desire he knew he had to voice. The most important thing his mind could conjure up.

“I’m glad it was good,” she breathed, her breath hot on his mouth like the ghost of a kiss. If he could press his mouth to hers, taste her…

“I meant for the honour,” he replied solemnly, needing to focus and say this. “Not my climax.” 

She pursed her lips slightly. “What honour?”

“The honour of seeing you at your most intimate…your most private. Until now, only one other man has had that same privilege.”

He didn’t say it, but it hung in the air between them.

_Your Husband_.


	18. Chapter 18

Maybe he had wanted to sting her, make her hurt a little, make her feel even a fraction of that agony he’d felt in that moment when he’d said those words. Wanted to be closer to her, and what was better than their shared pain?

But mostly he had just wanted to say it. To have her know that he didn’t take what they had just done lightly. That he knew his place, but also that he knew it had been elevated. He was her pet, and yet he knew he had just been allowed up onto the bed. That he’d been granted equal footing, for however brief a time, with that of her husband. She’d broken a rule for him.

It should have tasted like victory.

Instead, it left a bitter taste in his mouth, followed by a constant, dull ache in his heart. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t want equal footing with the husband. He wanted to _be_ the—

He slammed that thought away as quickly as humanly possible. Only madness lied in such a direction. That he would even dare to entertain such an idea was ludicrous. He did not want Anna like that. He never had. He’d had his chance and he’d thrown it aside in pride. In ambition. In folly.

He could never go back and change it, and he didn’t want to. His sins were his to bear, his mistakes were his to learn from. His past had bought them their present.

If he loved Anna now…well, that was the most fitting punishment of all, wasn’t it? No more and no less than what he deserved. The perfect penalty. To be hopelessly in love with a woman he’d scorned, a woman he’d once had truly and completely, a woman who had found her heart’s desire in another man. A woman who had married her true love. And it wasn’t him.

Anna held him completely, while he only held a small part of her. She would never be solely his. Once she left his sight, she had a completely different life. One he wasn’t a part of.

And he _hated_ it.

Hated knowing that the bulk of her time was spent with another man in marital bliss.

He was no stranger to jealousy. One did not grow up on the Southern Isles and not know the feeling intimately. It was unbecoming and he despised feeling it, but he couldn’t stop himself from it either. As long as he didn’t act on it. As long as he didn’t do anything outright stupid because of it. Still, he seethed with it. Knowing what could have been between him and Anna, and knowing that he had given that chance to someone else cut him deep.

_Regret is a funny thing_ , he mused, lying down on his cot, knowing at least where the jealousy stemmed from and knowing he’d have to deal with it sooner or later. _Jesus_. He had a lot to atone for.

It was only guilt until the guilty had moved on from it. Only shameful until he faced it. Owned it.

_Puppy._

_Pervert_.

Anna would make him own it sooner or later.

And when she did, what boundaries would they have left to test?

Where were they supposed to go from there?

When he finally paid for his crimes, and his end of the bargain was fulfilled…would it be over? Would _they_ be over?

He rubbed his hands over his face, raking his fingers up into his hair. He heaved a sigh.

_What a mess_.

Because there was definitely a _they_. Even if Anna didn’t want to see their relationship for what it really was, Hans could. He could always see it. Every time she came to him, it was there. Clear as day. He had always known what it was, right from the beginning.

_An affair_.

He’d welcomed it, prided himself on it in the beginning.

The Crown Princess of Arendelle had a lover outside of her marriage. And it was him _._

It was supposed to be the sort of thing that would end without attachment, and he’d go home after serving his sentence, tales of lurid notoriety in his pocket. Only somewhere along the way, he fell for her, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment it had happened. Only that it had.

And now everything in his future was supremely fucked up.

He didn’t like to think about it. He’d never been one to plan for futures to begin with, choosing to act in the present, always reactive, but always searching for his advantage in the now. Nobody ever knew what tomorrow would bring, and he had never wanted to, preferring to live in his fanciful dreams.

But the reality was there. He’d have to go home sometime. He’d already served close to two years of his five-year sentence, and Arendelle was not a place he could settle in. No matter how badly he wanted to stay. There was nothing for him in Arendelle to make his fortune, but back home he at least had something paltry to fall back on.

He sighed.

He wanted to stay here forever and be Anna’s pet. Continue to live in his dream and be happy for once.

***

She was a little dazed and lightheaded when she left Hans. They had stood together, separated by only the bars for longer than had been necessary, but not long enough to quell her longing for something more than a settled life.

There was no mistaking anymore that she desired Hans, and not just his equipment. The way her blood sang from the merest brush of a touch from him, the slightest physical contact had readily confirmed that fact. The way her loins were set aflame the moment his cock had touched her skin. The splash of his seed on her belly. She knew right then and there she would only ever feel that excitement with Hans.

What they had done was toeing the line. She hadn’t meant to take it that far in the beginning. She had only meant to give him a show. Only meant for him to sit and watch, then satisfy himself afterwards.

Except the look in his eye—that hunger, that perfectly restrained yearning for _her_ , had broken her control. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be looked at with desire, and she’d needed him there so fiercely, so desperately, wanting him as close as she could get him while she came.

And came she did.

Oh lord, had she ever. Her orgasm had shaken her, leaving her exhausted and wholly satisfied. Into her bed for a nap was the only place she wanted to be—aside from being back with Hans, but she’d already stayed too long there. She’d have to be careful with that. Elsa would not react well if she caught Anna slipping to or from the dungeons again. And Anna would not risk her pleasures out of carelessness.

What she had with Hans was too important. Too necessary to her life, to her happiness, to who she was to ever give him up now. She needed Hans, but in an entirely different way than before.

Before, she had needed him to find herself. Now she needed him to keep what she had found. The Anna that had emerged from the ashes.

His words afterwards still echoed in her mind. Of what she had given him on a whim, a lustful impulse.

_‘The honour of seeing you at your most intimate…your most private. Until now, only one other man has had that same privilege.’_

She had felt as though the floor had been ripped out from under her when he had said that to her, and it had changed everything. Everything between them in the blink of an eye, and he was completely unaware of it.

He’d had no idea that he was the first, the only one, to ever see her like that. To see her climax, and with total abandon. He’d had no idea what honour he really held, and she hadn’t the courage to tell him. To say such a thing was far too personal, and opened her up to him in a way she was not ready to be.

Because she knew inevitably where such an admission would lead. The boundaries would dissolve as quickly as her rules, and both would succumb to full debauchery. A descent she could never climb back from.

She’d disgrace herself again, and with the same man as before, only truly this time. Disgrace herself after Elsa and Kristoff had worked so hard to restore her honour, her reputation. All their effort to make her a respectable woman would be gone. Washed away by the tide.

How could that ever be what she wanted? Life as a fallen woman would never be an easy one, even with the privilege her high birth afforded her. And yet, settling would never suit her. It rubbed away at her nature the way the sea did to stone, until only fine grains of sand were all that remained.

Things were always changing. Could she learn to love what she’d become if she moved to the mountains with Kristoff? Or was she better off disgraced?

She didn’t know.

Nothing felt steady or sturdy. Nothing felt safe. She’d been given back the oar to man her little boat, but the waters were choppy and unknown. She could scarcely recall a time in her life when she’d felt so unsure and indecisive as she did now. She had always been one to trust her heart, her emotions guiding her decisions.

But her heart had never been tugged in two opposite directions before. What was she to do? There was no future in Hans however loudly he made her heart sing. She knew that. To even entertain such thoughts was sheer lunacy. The resulting scandal would be unimaginable. Her family name ruined.

She knew this, just as she knew there was a future here in Arendelle as Kristoff’s wife, albeit a stifled one. She’d be respectable, have a family, all at the cost of her desires, her dreams.

She hadn’t meant for any of this, and now she was entangled with Hans in a way she feared she’d never come back from.

_No good can come from seeing him again_.

She knew that now, finally understood her sister’s warning, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from going back to him.

No warning would ever be enough.

***

The end of autumn brought the cold quickly, winter arriving swift and sure. Each morning, as with the winter before it, Anna would awake in a fit of shivers, never quite warm enough, even with the extra blankets piled high on her bed. She despised the cold and the never-ending chill it brought to her bones.

Kristoff returned from the mountains after the first snowfall. Anna had almost forgotten all about their fight, almost forgotten how angry she was with him. So much had happened to her in the time he’d been away that her anger had long since cooled and drifted.

She was a different person now than when he’d left.

She could never really hate Kristoff. Just as she knew she could never love him. He was her friend, her first real friend outside of her family. Kristoff was just and true, honest. He lived a simple life, guided by action and familiarity. He didn’t like the unexpected, nor did he care for surprises. He didn’t like to put on airs, and he didn’t like to pretend he was something he was not.

But he’d done it for her. Gone against his nature in an effort to protect her.

The relief of not having to keep up pretenses with her anymore was clear on his face. He didn’t like to keep secrets from her, even if they were supposed to be for her own good. She didn’t want to imagine the strain he’d be under since he’d promised to look after her, and how it must have eaten away at him.

Their reunion had been awkward.

Anna expected nothing less, there was a rift there between them and she wasn’t quite sure it could ever be completely mended. It would heal in time, but right now, it was still sore. Tender, and best not poked at.

The added warmth he brought to her bed almost made up for everything. To have a warm body to snuggle up against in the chill of the night was worth being married for. To remember that Kristoff was solid and sturdy, soft and dependable. And if she let him, he’d be a good husband.

Each night she’d tremble as the cold seeped in, zipping straight to her heart and she’d snuggle closer to Kristoff. And each night he’d comment on how cold she was, a bit of concern in his voice. Doubt on his mind. He was quieter since returning from the mountains, and Anna missed the way they used to fall into easy conversation.

They didn’t talk anymore about moving to his cabin, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. Kristoff was biding his time, waiting for the right moment to broach the subject again, and sometimes she wanted to just say it, bring it all up, quarrel over it, and have it all laid plain.

But Kristoff wouldn’t risk it. He mended things differently.

He wasn’t Hans. He wouldn’t provoke her anger on purpose. He wouldn’t reveal what he was really feeling through outbursts and snide words. Kristoff would mull his thoughts over before speaking to her.  He’d be careful, thoughtful. He’d be calm and precise, his wants plain with his words.

Anna already knew what he wanted of her. To be the good wife. To apologize. To make amends and move past their fight. To take on her role properly and act like his devoted spouse. Behave the way she was supposed to. The way society expected her to. It wasn’t enough to give up her body to him when he came to her, he needed her to be his wife in every sense, and Anna just couldn’t find it in herself to commit to that. Not yet.

Kristoff quietly let her be, their time together sparse and silent, each finding an excuse to avoid the other in the waking hours. It was like walking on eggshells. Neither wanting to say nor do anything that would cause another fight, but both knowing they’d need to hash it out eventually.

He didn’t deserve it.

But Anna couldn’t quite fix what had been broken and neither could Kristoff.

So she spent her time in the dungeons with Hans whenever she could spare a moment, checking up on him, tending to his wound, watching as the gash slowly healed, leaving behind a raised pink scar about the length of her forearm across his back.

She had forever marked him with her rage.

He didn’t mind.

She’d brought it up only once and he had shrugged it off.

_“It meant something at the time, my lady,”_ he’d said. _“You needed it, and I gave it.”_

It didn’t change the fact that she had maimed him. That he had paid the price for her anger in his flesh. That he had taken on that sin. A constant reminder for her to take care.

They had taken up their plays again in the dungeon, but Anna was ever fearful of making the same mistake twice. Each lash of her whip an accident waiting to happen. An anxiousness she couldn’t seem to rid herself of. She was careful to a fault, intent on never hurting him again.

And he knew it.

He would tease her if she was too soft with the whip, knowing she was scared of hurting him again. He had more faith in her than she did, but after a while, his taunts became crueler, and he’d be mean on purpose, goading her back to her former confidence. Pushing her until she’d make him hurt.

_“There’s my lady,”_ he’d whispered between clenched teeth the day she’d finally really hit him. Ecstasy in his voice. He wanted it to hurt, needed it to. Whatever satisfaction he got from the pain was great enough that he wouldn’t allow her to go easy on him.

He expected his mistress to perform, even while he’d been healing.

Sex play rarely entered the equation anymore. Hans had wanted his pain. His punishment. His cock left throbbing and untouched with the end of each session. She supposed it was a way for him to double his penance, and though she allowed him one day a month to pleasure himself, she never inquired as to whether or not he did.

It had been his encouragement, his will, that kept their sessions going. That kept _her_ going. That made her face that dark part of herself and come back from it. He would not tolerate her pity nor her worry.

A reminder to Anna that Hans had always been the one in charge, the one setting the limits and marking the boundaries. But while he was in charge of the board, she was the one who held the power within it. He relinquished himself to her with each session, trusting her completely.

It had only strengthened their bond.

Anna had begun the practice of caring for him afterwards, soothing his sore skin with balms, petting his hair and coddling him with gentle words of praise. Surprised at first that he would let her. He was at his most uncomfortable with anything he perceived as him showing weakness, or her showing kindness, but he seemed to lap up her attention with a quiet affection, enjoying the down time with her as if he actually were an animal, a pet. Cuddling up to her and basking in her care.

Theirs was an interesting arrangement. He helped her embrace the dark parts in herself, while she helped him accept the sensitive parts in him.

It was only a natural progression to present him with his collar. It was something they had worked towards for sometime now. He’d never brought it up since it had been spoken aloud months ago. Had never pestered her with his desire for one, knowing it wasn’t his place and that it was out of his hands. But Anna had never forgotten that he wanted one. Needed one. The longing was always hidden there in his eyes whenever she left him.

It had always been her choice to give him a collar, and she had liked that she had that authority.

And over the course of the winter, she knew it was time. She had sought out a collar and tag for him. Anna had tamed her wild animal just as she had set out to do, and Hans had become her devoted pet. He was hers in every sense of the word. He’d earned the right to wear her collar and identify himself as hers.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she stood in her usual spot outside his cell. Presenting him with his collar had her overly anxious and nervous. She wondered if this was how suitors felt when they proposed to their sweethearts.

“Do you like it?” she asked, holding the sleek, black leather, unbuckled, out towards him.  She had spared no expense, and had it expertly crafted. He nodded, quiet, his eyes bright and on the collar. “I had the tag engraved. Your name on the front, and on the back—” she turned the gold tag over to show him the inscription, “—it says ‘ _belongs to Anna_ ’.”

He grinned at that, his cheeks going pink. Hers following. Relieved he liked it. She had wondered if a physical collar was taking it too far, but her heart hadn’t cared. She’d gone and done it anyway.

She stuck her hands through the bars to place the collar around his neck and he ducked lower to give her easier access.

“Those words sit on your skin to remind you that you are mine.” She threaded the leather through the buckle, securing it, and slid two fingers between the collar and his neck to test the tightness. It fit perfectly.

Anna stepped back to admire him, and he stood up straight for her. She smiled, pleased how good he looked with a collar, silent pride shining on his face. An unexpected thrum of heat spearing through her body, straight to her core, all over a bit of leather around his neck. God, she was wet, surely dripping. Such a scandalous thing to do, collar a man.

She couldn’t wait to see what he’d look like shirtless wearing it. She licked her lips, that pleasure would come another day. Right now, she wanted this to remain a special occasion. An important one.

“There, now you finally look like a proper pet.” She held up a small pocket mirror so he could see. “Who’s my handsome boy?”

“I am,” he replied softly, his cheeks still flushed as he stared at his reflection.

 

It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given him. Anna had gone all out. The leather was soft and supple, like a gentle kiss against his skin. The weight of the gold tag resting on his throat—sublime. Her attention to details, her words on his skin…he’d never had a moment where he’d been happier in his life.

He wished he had the vocabulary to say to her, to tell her just how much this meant to him, but the words just wouldn’t come, the best he could muster was silent awe and answering her questions, like the good boy he was.

And that’s what he loved best. He didn’t have to communicate with words with her. He just had to be, and somehow, Anna just knew. Sometimes he was convinced that she could read his mind the way she could anticipate his needs, the way she could understand him.

There was only one thing she ever failed to see with him, and that was for the best.

That he was in love with her.

There was no question that he loved her, fiercely and unequivocally, and he’d stopped quite some time ago trying to hide it from her. There was no point. She couldn’t see it or if she did, she didn’t understand it. She simply saw what she wanted to. Her pet. Sweet and affectionate.

Anna didn’t see him as desirable or romantic. She didn’t even lust after him. She didn’t need him for that, she had husband who filled that role for her.

He’d scaled back on the sexual attention she rewarded him with during their plays, unable to bear her touch on him in such an intimate way while he was silently pining for the whole of her, and not just physical affection.

He existed in quiet agony, each day yearning to be more than what he was to her and knowing it would never happen.

That love had never been part of their arrangement, and he’d been the one to fall, not her.

A proper and fitting punishment.


	19. Chapter 19

Prince Lennart of the Southern Isles arrived officially with Spring, and Anna did not think she’d ever meet a man more loathsome than he.

She had been sent by Elsa to the docks to formally greet their new liaison to the Southern Isles, and it wasn’t long before Prince Lennart’s boorish manners grated on her nerves, instantly disliking him.

The man appraised her with a bored sort of arrogance, not unlike what she recognized in Hans way back when they first met in the dungeons. But other than expressions, the two men shared very little in common aside from eye colour. _Thank God_.

“So, you’re the one, eh?” he asked. His beady, little eyes leering. “Can’t say I’m surprised. He always did have a thing for freckles, though most would argue they’re unbecoming.” He grinned at her. A greasy smile that Anna found revolting. The smell of alcohol wafting from his breath. _Great._ The man wasn’t even sober. Elsa was gonna _love_ that.

“Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle,” she introduced formally, ignoring the insult and making sure to use her full title though she rarely used it. Perhaps a little reminder that she outranked him would even out his manners. “I pray you had a pleasant journey?” she asked, artfully switching topics as coolly as the breeze.

“Yes, yes, weather was fine. Couldn’t have made more perfect timing than this.” His unending grin gave Anna chills. There was something decidedly off about Prince Lennart, and it wasn’t just his manners.

“My sister, Queen Elsa, is looking forward to this visit from the Southern Isles and welcomes you with open arms to our kingdom.”

He snorted at the ‘open arms’ part, mumbling something like, “ _I’ll bet she does,_ ” before following Anna towards the palace, his entourage of embarrassed servants and aides close behind.

Anna couldn’t wait to be rid of the man, and eagerly dump him onto Elsa to deal with. She didn’t feel like her presence had much impact in the way of guilt at all with Prince Lennart, and they’d probably fair better with Elsa’s icy demeanor at the helm. She hoped her sister would find an advantage in their trade agreements and send this awful man packing as soon as possible. Prince Lennart gave her the creeps, and the sooner he left, the better.

Elsa was waiting in the front hall of the palace, standing as regal as possible to greet her guest. Even Anna felt a bit in awe being in Elsa’s presence, and Anna was used to her sister. Elsa was unbelievably skilled in presentation, and Anna was forever reminded of it when visitors arrived in Arendelle. Very few people, young and old alike, wouldn’t take Elsa seriously as a ruler.

Prince Lennart was no exception. He went stupid—stupider than he already was—and right in front of Anna commented what a moron Hans had been for going after the wrong sister, because clearly, Elsa was an angel. Superior in every way.

Anna was sure she was going to bite her tongue off by accident trying to keep her mouth politely shut.

Elsa, true to form, was less than impressed by Prince Lennart than Anna was. Even after his introductions, which were far courtlier than what he’d given Anna on the docks. Elsa would be seething if she’d heard how he’d acted with Anna. Best to keep that story to herself until after the man left.

If there was one good thing about Lennart, it was the camaraderie his unpleasantness managed to strike up between Anna and her sister.

It was nice to feel a sense of kinship with Elsa again. Multiple times Elsa flashed Anna looks of sheer annoyance and astonishment whenever Lennart spoke. Anna couldn’t help but grin at the silent and comical communication she and Elsa had struck up, unbeknownst to the drunken prince.

“Oh, the man is positively _beastly_ ,” Elsa whispered in exasperation to her as they led him and his party to the dining hall for lunch. Then much loudly, for Prince Lennart’s benefit, she announced, “Our chefs have prepared a special feast today in honour of our esteemed guests—”

“—Yes, yes,” Prince Lennart waved his hands impatiently and Elsa’s eyes narrowed just a fraction in distaste as the prince blathered on, “eating is all well and good, but first I’d like to know of my little brother. Tell me, who am I to speak with in regards to my brother’s punishment?”

Anna nearly tripped over her feet at the mention of Hans, and Elsa stopped dead in her tracks. The air around them cooling and making Anna instantly tense. Of course, Lennart would want to know how his brother faired first and foremost, they were family, and Hans had been imprisoned in Arendelle for nearly two years now. It certainly wasn’t an unreasonable request, but it had been rudely brought up, with little tact and formality. Something Elsa would not appreciate.

“That would be me,” Elsa replied brusquely. “And I can assure you, he is being treated well, and with civility, punished properly as per the correspondence with your father.”

“Has anyone told him I was coming?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe he was informed,” Elsa answered politely and Anna could tell that Elsa was on the edge of her patience. “He is a prisoner, and not a guest here. We had no reason to believe a visit to the dungeons was in order. There was no mention from King Stieg concerning the matter.”

Anna immediately felt guilty. She had known for months now that Hans’s brother would be coming to Arendelle and she’d not thought to mention it to Hans. She’d forgotten all about it. Something that had held very little importance to her, was obviously something of great importance to Hans and his family. How could she have been so forgetful? So thoughtless? So selfish? She should have told Hans the day she had found out, but it hadn’t registered with her. She’d been too busy trying to stay at the palace longer, only thinking of herself.

“Good.” The way Lennart said it didn’t make it sound like a good thing at all. It sounded nasty and cruel. “It’s his birthday today, you know.”

“I didn’t,” Elsa replied stiffly. She looked like she swallowed a bug. “Under the circumstances I’m sure we can easily arrange a visit for you—”

“—Oh _no_ ,” the man laughed as though he’d told a hilarious joke. The sound as greasy as oil on water. “You misunderstand, I don’t want to _see_ him. I just want you to tell him that _I_ was here. That I’ve taken his place. That I’m here on his birthday doing the job he was supposed to be doing while he’s busy rotting in a cell.”

Elsa frowned slightly in confusion and barely contained disgust. “I’m sorry…but you _don’t_ want to see your brother?”

“No,” the man answered, now with a tone that implied he thought she was stupid. “Who on earth would want to? I just want my message sent. Call it his birthday present.”

“Of course.” Elsa smiled politely, signalling one of her guards to her, and Anna’s stomach lurched, her anger flaring. “Now, if you’ll kindly follow Kai, we can move on to lunch and our other business.”

To Elsa’s credit, as soon as Prince Lennart’s back was turned, Elsa shook her head ‘no’ to the guard, who nodded and hurried off, making it look to Prince Lennart as though his _birthday message_ was being sent when it most certainly wasn’t. Anna breathed a sigh of relief. As much as Elsa despised Hans, she had no intention of being needlessly cruel. A gesture that made Anna rather proud of her older sister. Reminding her that Elsa was a formidable queen and really did try to have everyone’s best interest at heart.

Even prisoners.

Even Hans.

But even Elsa’s compassion couldn’t erase how horrible Anna felt for Hans. The way Lennart’s awful words and intentions gnawed at her heart and wouldn’t let up.

_Poor Hans_.

Today was his birthday, and his own brother hadn’t wanted to see him. His own brother wanted to be malicious on purpose _because_ it was Hans’s birthday. She could scarcely wrap her head around such an awful ploy.

Hans had never talked much about his family, and she had never asked. Now she knew why. His brother was a complete ass, that was obvious, and what if the rest of his family were the same? _Yeesh_.

She couldn’t help but feel outraged on Hans’s behalf either and took anything Prince Lennart said as a deeply personal insult. Angry and defensive that someone dared to go after Hans, as though he were nothing. As though he was not hers. It was nothing less than a grave offense as far as she was concerned.

Hans belonged to her, and while Elsa had prevented Lennart’s message from being sent, Anna would not sit idly by when such news had fallen straight into her lap.

Someone had tried to hurt _her_ pet.

On purpose.

On his _birthday_.

And she knew exactly what to do about it.

Lennart was wrong when he’d proclaimed that no one would want to see Hans today.

She wanted to see him.

In fact, she felt giddy, electricity humming in her veins as her mind began to plan. Once Elsa had released her from her royal duties after lunch, Anna could get to work. It was perfect, a stroke of pure luck on her side. Kristoff was gone for a few days harvesting ice, and Elsa would be tied up with Lennart for the rest of the day, probably well into the evening, giving Anna plenty of time to play in the dungeon.

A special occasion, deserved a special sort of punishment.

After all, birthdays were meant to be celebrated. Even for pets.

She smiled to herself.

_Especially_ pets.

She would give Hans a birthday he would never forget.


	20. Chapter 20

“You’ve permission to speak,” Anna stated after the door closed and they were alone. She looked excited, about to burst at the seams the moment the opportunity arose. Anna had big plans today, that was made plain.

“My lady,” Hans greeted, bemused and curious, trying to tilt his head up to see her. He’d been restrained differently today, no doubt on Anna’s orders, and he was absolutely dying to know what she had in mind for such a position. While easier on his arms and wrists, this new position felt very…vulnerable.

“You never mentioned today was your birthday,” Anna said, a small pout on her lips.

He stared at her, wracking his brain, trying to figure out how she’d know such a thing. He hated birthdays, especially his, and would never have made any mention of his birthday to her—ever. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning…” He frowned, the answer coming almost instantly. “Which of my kin did you hear it from?

“Your brother, Lennart, is in Arendelle on business.” Anna bit her lip, hesitating, obviously trying to think up a way to politely tell him his brother was an asshole of epic proportions. It was cute to see her fret over manners. “I’m sorry to say that he expressed no wish to see you.”

Hans nodded as best as his position would allow.

“We never got on, he and I. No sense in you worrying over it. Is that why you came? Why the set up is different?” He jerked his head as best as he could towards the table he’d been strapped to, but his bound wrists at the top corners of the table while lying flat on his back made it difficult to move his head without straining the muscles.

His little coquette grinned, venturing towards him and his stomach immediately did flip flops. Yup, she definitely had big plans. That Cheshire smile on her face confirmed it. But he also knew her well enough to see the silent fury hiding in her eyes, met with determination. Lennart had obviously said something to her to spark outrage on his behalf, and Hans warmed at the thought. Lennart had said something awful, and now she was here defying it. She couldn’t be any more ‘Anna’ if she tried.

“I thought we’d celebrate. You and I. My pet deserves his special day.”

He was starting to get the distinct impression that he was actually going to enjoy his birthday this year, and couldn’t help but feel special she’d made plans— _naughty plans_ just for him. He was feeling quite ready for some intimate one on one with her, craving it all the more after his self imposed abstinence from her.

Her being outraged on his behalf was the cherry on top. He’d never be able to get enough of the little ways she showed she cared. It wasn’t the party itself that made his heart pound wildly in his chest, it was that she had thought to throw him a celebration in the first place.

Anna slipped her hand deeply into her skirt purse and pulled out a smooth and rather large glass object. She held it up for him to see. “Recognize this?”

Hans studied the object silently. _A paper weight? No. What on earth? …Ohhhhhh_. The answer came soon enough, though still a shocking surprise.

“It’s… _me_.”

Anna had gotten a glass replica made of his _cock_.

“There’s my astute pet,” she cooed and he melted at her praise, quickly distracted by the soft pool of heat forming in his loins. He loved it when she thought he was smart. “It’s your birthday, and so I’m going to fuck you today. Just not in the way you’ve always imagined.”

 _Jesus fucking Christ_.

His heart jumped straight into his stomach as he stared at the glass replica. All desire vanished. There was absolutely no way in hell she was fitting _that_ up his ass. That thing was a monster. He’d never really realized how large he was until Anna was waving his measurements around in his face. He knew he was well endowed, but _Jesus_.

“You don’t know how many ways I’ve imagined,” he sassed anyway, hoping he could find courage in his words…and finding none. He’d be screaming ‘sextant’ the minute she brought that near his hole.

She gave him a wry stare. “Big talk for a man whose colour just drained from his face. Are you going to be my pet or are you going to be a scaredy-cat instead?”

“It won’t fit,” he answered, unable to take his eyes off his replica. “So yeah, I…I guess I am scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Pain.” Surely that had to be obvious to her. “You can’t tell me that’s not going to hurt like a son of a bitch.”

Her tongue slipped out to tease the corner of her mouth on that Cheshire grin. “Well, it was modeled after one.”

He laughed at that; he couldn’t help it. Some of his discomfort briefly fading with the sound. She always had a way of doing that, breaking the tension, easing his nerves. Disarming him.

She reached over, caressing his thigh lightly. “I promise that if you aren’t begging me to fuck you thoroughly up the ass by the time I’m through with you today, I won’t.” Her hands moved down his legs, stopping at his boots and starting to tug one off. “And if you want or need to stop at any time, you know the word.”

“I know,” he rasped, his voice thick as his boot came off and she tossed it aside.

“And if it hurts,” she continued, moving to his other boot and tugging a bit rougher, “it’ll be in a good way. It’s your birthday, and I am going to make you feel exquisite, pet. Trust me.” The second boot came off and she threw it over to the other.

“I do. I do trust you, my lady.”

It was that simple for him. If Anna promised him that he’d like it, then he would trust Anna, and if it turned out he didn’t, he already trusted her to stop if he said their safe word. He was safe here and he was safe with Anna. He could try this and there was absolutely no pressure. All he had to do was get lost in her voice, in her commands, and just let her have him. Relinquish control and let her make him experience everything she wanted him to.

She began to remove his trousers and he relished the feel of her hands brushing his skin. “We’re in no hurry, we can do this slowly.” The rush of cool air on his bare legs after she removed his socks made his hair stand on end, and it occurred to him that aside from his collar, this was the first time she’d stripped him completely bare in this room, adding to his feeling of vulnerability.

She flicked his nipple hard with her thumb and forefinger and he gasped, the sting breaking him from his thoughts. “You look nervous.”

“I am,” he admitted. Not sure what else to say. Birthdays had never been particularly good for him and now she was here wanting to stick a giant glass dong up his ass to mark the occasion. He almost laughed, a sardonic thought forming. He’d had worse birthdays.

“Tell you what,” she said, a sly note to her voice as she began to strip off the top half of her clothing. Hans watched eagerly as she unwrapped each layer until her bare breasts fell free. “If the birthday boy can blow out his candle, I’ll grant him a wish before I fuck him silly with it.”

She had effectively stripped off her skirt now, revealing that she’d arrived without her drawers and was wearing a thick leather harness strapped around her hips and thighs instead. There was a large circular hole in the front of the harness, flush with her mound, cluing him in right away as to what it was for.

She really was going to fuck him today, quite literally.

“Oh?” And it was really the only answer he could give since his attention had been aptly stolen by her slender naked form wearing only a bit of leather…much like himself now that he thought about it. He wore a collar; she wore a harness.

“Yes. A wish within reason, of course. I trust your manners.” She held the glass dong up to his face, tapping it to his lips and making it perfectly clear what she wanted him to do.

Blow his candle.

The little minx.

Fellating a cock was not something in his skill set, but if Anna wanted to see him suck a glass dick, then he’d suck a glass dick. It didn’t look much like the real thing anyway, though the measurements of the oblong piece were rather accurate to his own that he’d recognized what it was almost instantly.

If he’d found the size daunting earlier, it was even more so now. Bad enough he had to worry about it up his ass later, now he had to worry about taking it down his throat without choking.

She poked the cock to his mouth again, more insistent this time. Best to get on with it, Anna was not fond of being patient when she had plans in motion. Besides, if he performed well, she had promised him a wish granted. And there was a hell of a lot he could do with that if he was careful with his words.

He tentatively opened his mouth and darted his tongue out to drag over the head, the glass cool on his tongue. He dabbed at the tip, still deciding how best to get his mouth around the glass monstrosity, trying to remember how it was done the last time a woman had sucked him off.

“A bit shy,” Anna critiqued. “Is that really how you like it done? Scared little dashes of tongue just barely flicking the eye?”

He flushed red, and his cheeks burned, she wasn’t going to give him an inch here. He did not want to admit to her that he found his own size intimidating when placed at the receiving end. “You’d have me suck a replica of myself, it’s a bit perverse when you think about it.”

“And you’re a pervert, and I’m going to fuck you with that replica, so your point is moot. Open up.” She nudged the tip with a gentle shove past his lips, forcing him to take the cock into his mouth, saliva pooling at the edges of his lips and dribbling down his chin. “Suck it like you mean it, like how you’d want me to do it.”

His cock jerked to attention.

How many times had he daydreamed about how Anna would do it?

It was easy when put in that perspective. _Show her how you like it._ And he moved his mouth and lips on the glass cock, starting to suck soft and slow, his tongue wrapping around the glass, imagining what it would feel like if it were his real cock and her lips.

Anna began to pump the cock in and out of his mouth slowly. “That’s it,” she whispered, increasing her tempo. “Suck harder, take it further.”

He could only nod, his head bobbing in rhythm, trying to keep her pace and take the length without gagging, his eyes tearing up and his lips spread thin and tight around the shaft. His cheeks sore from the motion of sucking. She pushed further and he did gag.

“Relax your throat and breathe through your nose, my sweet,” she instructed calmly.

Trying to swallow the excess of saliva and breathe at the same time while she continued to pump the glass cock faster and harder down his throat was challenging. He moaned in protest, the phallic glass assaulting his mouth almost to the point of roughness, but nevertheless thrilling to think of Anna taking him like that.

“Do you really think you’d last this long if that was my mouth?” she asked dryly. “I see your ego is bigger than your prick.”

He furiously shook his head ‘no’, wanting nothing more than to stop and not caring in the least how quick she thought he’d come from oral. With her, he’d most likely be a quick shooter anyway, so she wasn’t exactly wrong. Pride be damned.

She pulled the glass cock from his mouth, a thread of saliva clinging from his lips to the tip, the glass glistening brilliantly from his attentions. “I hope you appreciate the effort involved in satisfying a cock like yours. And just think, I’m so much smaller than you, a much tighter fit, and a lot more work on my part.”

He swallowed a groan at the very thought. His true cock as solid and stiff as his glass replica at her words. The fantasy of her sweet little mouth on his cock…

He’d completed her task, he’d blown out his candle, and he waited patiently for her to give him permission to voice his wish.

It’d been ages since Hans had celebrated his own birthday, longer still since he’d been the center of someone else’s attention on the day. And the fact that Anna was the one who had decided to celebrate, to treat him to his special day, had him practically swooning. His mistress and lady had deemed him worthy of celebrating. Worthy of her attention and pampering. Worthy of a gift of his choosing from her. A wish she would grant.

It was a grand day, indeed.

He could think of a dozen things he’d like from Anna—eleven of those things she’d likely refuse, as they were breaking her rules. Birthday or not, he was still her obedient pet. Well behaved and docile. He would not test her rules. If rules were to be broken, he decided, they were hers to break.

“So, what does my pet want for his birthday?” she asked. “What is your wish?”

He knew what he wanted from her. And it was perfect.

“My wish,” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully, knowing exactly how wily Anna could be, “is to watch you fuck yourself with my glass cock until you come all over it.”

She beamed at him, her eyes wild and sparkling. “Hans!” she gasped in mock surprise. “What an absolutely depraved request.”

“Perverted,” he volleyed. “It’s my birthday, and it’s only fair that if I’m to get fucked by me, you do too.”

She caressed his jawline, before pulling away from him and shimmying out of her harness. When she finished, she came back to him with the replica. “Open your legs a bit for me. If you really want a show, I’ll need you to hold it in place firmly.”

Hans did as he was told, intrigued with what Anna had in mind. He’d assumed she would just lean back and hold the dong in her hand, using it that way. But Anna was ever the creative and had a completely different idea. She took the glass dildo and positioned it between his thighs and pushed it up flush against his balls.

“Close your legs tight, pet, and hold it in place.” She giggled when he did, tensing his thighs to keep the thing sturdy. “Now you’ve got two cocks…imagine what a girl could do with that?”

He moaned at the thought, his member jerking excitedly so that it batted against the glass version. Reminding him that soon her body would be sliding onto the replica so close to his own cock that it was delightfully cruel.

“Alas, that was not your wish,” she teased, making him think for just a moment that maybe if he’d asked such a thing, she would have obliged.

She climbed onto the table, straddling herself above him, her thighs parted wide with her waiting cunt hovering above the glass cock and close enough to the real thing that he could feel her aroused heat on his skin. “Are you thinking about how this cock is coated in your saliva? How a part of you is now going to be going into me?”

He hadn’t, but now he was, his cock aching, and convincing him that he was stuck in a perpetual state of arousal.

“It’s a high privilege, you know.”

“Yes, my lady,” he answered, transfixed on the tip of the glass cock, watching as she inched herself down, how she teased her lips first with the tip, sliding it along her folds. He swallowed hard, her legs spreading wider as she prepared to take that massive girth and length in.

 _God, she’s so tiny_.

Truly aware of their size difference for the first time, seeing it up close and first hand, finally put into perspective, excited him beyond reason. She’d have to work at it slowly to acclimate to such a size as he. She’d be so tight… He could already imagine the vice-like grip of her cunt, slick with need, hot, welcoming, encasing him like a form fitting glove. Tailor made just for him.

He loved imagining the unbearable tease of wanting to slake his passion hard and fast, but having to restrain until she could take him comfortably. The way she would open up and bloom for him, wanting all of him, _needing all of him._ Needing him to satisfy her in a way he imagined that her husband never could.

It was pure fantasy, but as she brought the tip of that glass cock in, Hans wanted to imagine that it was only him she wanted, craved beyond all measure and reason. That only he could give her what it was she desired. That he was _the one_.

He drew a sharp breath, gaping as she slid down the length of that massive glass cock with relative ease. A soft, satisfied moan escaping her lips as she sunk down the length until her thighs touched his. _Holy fuck_.

“Surprised?” she asked, that mischievous grin back. “You didn’t really think I had this made especially for you, did you?”

He had.

He’d assumed it had been crafted exactly for that reason and that his birthday had just been the excuse she needed to prompt her into trying it in him. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected it to be hers, made for her pleasure. That she was only sharing her toys with him today, and as she began lifting her hips and moving, he could see she was already well practised with taking him. A thought that had him stiff to the point of acute pain.

She fucked herself quite rightly on his glass cock, her body responding with all the visual keys of desire—hard nipples, pert and pointed; her cunt swollen and wet, her passion glistening on the glass cock whenever he caught sight of it; her little moans and sighs; the way her body arched, the slick sheen of sweat on her skin as she worked that cock with effort. Her body rubbing against him like a pure creature of sex, with him helpless and unsated as she mimicked the act of fucking him while _on_ him with an aid she had made _of_ him.

Absolute perfect torture.

Hans practically cried out with need to be sated, with absolute want each time she slammed herself down on his glass replica. He clenched his thighs for all they were worth, straining to keep her satisfied, to keep that cock in place, so that each thrust granted him some brief contact with her.

When her hand reached forward, searching out her clit as she rode, her knuckles would push against the underside of his cock, giving him only the tiniest form of relief. Not nearly enough to be gratifying, and yet he felt he’d die if she took her hand away.

He wanted to match his own hips with hers, thrust for thrust, imagining himself in her, but in order for his lady to find her pleasure, he needed to keep the glass cock firmly in place, staying as still as humanly possible. He’d have to content himself with the dream, the play, the make believe. Until finally she was ready to attend to him. He could stay stock still for her, he was trained, after all.

And he could wait. He could always wait for her. That had been the arrangement for so long now. The build up of his pleasure granted only by her when she gave it—and she always did, when it was agreed upon.

Whatever trials she put him through, the end result was always worth it. His pleasure always belonging to her, and him needing it that way. It felt best when it wasn’t his, when he wasn’t in control of it, when it came as a reward from his mistress. When he didn’t belong at all to himself anymore, but to her. Always to her, completely and undeniably.

She rode his replica hard, her fingers moving fast on her clit and came for him, crying out, her thighs quaking against his as she gasped and writhed before pulling herself off of the glass dick. Breathless and beaming. God, he could live in that smile, the way her eyes shone, the way her skin glowed radiantly—she was breathtaking.

“Oh my God,” she sighed. “That was a good one.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” he flirted. “My lady outdid herself.”

“I’ve only just started.”

She climbed off of him, stifling a giggle as her legs wobbled beneath her weight. He didn’t think he could be any more in love with her than he already was, but damn, she was cute after a climax.

Hans was busy counting his lucky stars when she went back to her pile of clothes and put the harness back on. She gave him a quick wink before rummaging through her skirt purse to take out the rest of the goodies she’d brought. Two more items were brought to the table.  A bottle of oil and a… _feather duster?_

She held on to the feather duster. “I believe it’s time I made good on my word.”

“And which was that?” he asked, being coy, mostly just so he could hear her say it.

“That by the time I was through with you, you’d be begging me to fuck you with that glass cock.”


	21. Chapter 21

There was always a sense of relaxed familiarity with Hans. Something comfortable in the ease of their banter, in their teasing. With him it just came naturally. Anna could be anyone and do anything with Hans and he was always willing to give it a try. She could express herself freely with him, embrace social depravity and just have _fun_. Screw propriety and being a good, decent wife.

She had missed touching Hans, missed making him come, missed the way he looked and sounded when he did. Today, she was going to make up for that. Today, she was going to make him spend as though his life depended on it. By the time she was through with what she had planned, he’d be lucky if he could remember his own name.

She’d chosen his glass cock over the modest four inch one on purpose, knowing Hans would be intimidated by the bigger one. If she was seriously going to take him today, she didn’t want him cocky and confident. She wanted him nervous and unsure, testing the limits of his trust.

She found that she liked coaxing and coddling him, encouraging him, and today, she wanted to do just that. She wanted him to have to rely on her to protect him, to keep him safe, to trust that she wouldn’t hurt him, and that she’d make him come harder than he ever had before.

She decided against telling him all of what his brother had said and how it had angered her, made her feel protective and defensive all at once over him. Today partly being retaliation against a slight he knew nothing about. An unspoken challenge she had accepted and would meet.

“So what’s with the duster?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Clean up?”

She shook her head, leaning over him. “Exquisite torture.”

He laughed at that, and Anna could see just a hint of his cockiness coming through, no doubt because he was feeling in his element and relaxed after her performance for him. “Hardly effective torture, I’m afraid. Not after you’ve already accustomed me to your variety of whips and paddles.”

That was exactly why the feather duster was going to be torture.

“We’ll see.” She drew the feather duster lightly up his leg, barely caressing him with the fringe of the feathers.

He immediately squirmed on contact. _Oh yeah_ , this was going to be torture for him. Hans wasn’t used to a light touch. He was used to force, used to rough, used to _pain_. A gentle caress was going to drive him insane.

Once she reached his groin, she put the duster down and pulled out her trusty hair ribbon. No sense in testing fate tonight, not when she didn’t know exactly how his body would react to the new sensations she had in store.

He gave a small satisfied groan as she tied the ribbon around his cock. Once he was set, she picked up the duster, continuing from his groin down his other leg, just as slow, just as soft. He twitched, trying to control his involuntary responses to the feathers and Anna lightened her touch, Hans doing his damnedest not to appear ticklish.

The key, she had decided, was to go light and slow with short breaks in between. Just enough time in between to make him want more. A sure-fire way to have Hans begging in no time.

His breathing went heavy when she flicked the duster over his chest, ignoring his cock and going straight for his nipples. Tiny sighs escaped his throat with each flick of the duster on a nipple. She loved how quickly such a soft, barely-there touch had made his nipples stiff and erect, tight and perfect, practically begging her to give him a quick lick.

Instead, she flicked one taut little bud hard with her finger, making his whole body jolt with a surprised gasp.

When he settled, she continued on with the duster, delighting in how he’d flinch when she drew the duster near his abdomen, watching how he’d tense his muscles, how his stomach would go concave in a reflex to her touch. She flicked his other nipple, eliciting another sharp gasp.

She gave him a moment to catch his breath before she brought the duster down on the length of his cock. Just as soft, just as light, and he _writhed_ at her touch, his teeth dragging across his bottom lip in a hard bite, stifling off a moan. She quickly switched up the sensations, raking her nails hard down his chest and abdomen, leaving five vicious pink lines in her wake. He didn’t even try to restrain his appreciation, groaning loudly for her.

Anna smiled; he was ready for the appetizer. Putting the duster down, but within her reach, she picked up the glass dildo and loosened her harness down her thighs so that she could fit the glass dildo into the cut-out hole in the front.

Once in place, she adjusted the straps so that the harness fit her snug. A pleasant thrum of heat coursed through her as the straps teased her flesh, a sense of power in her veins. She’d never felt so commanding, so intimidating as she did the moment she’d strapped that giant cock into place.

No wonder he’d always been so confident. Hans had the anatomy that practically guaranteed self-assurance. She looked up to find him staring at her.

“Holy hell,” he breathed, his voice tinged with awe. He licked his lips, keeping them slightly parted, tongue teasing one of his canines; his eyes filled with unadulterated lust as he took in the sight of her and _stared_.

His cock twitched greedily, the highest compliment he could pay her as she stood before him at the edge of the table. The giant glass cock jutting out from her body, a weight on her pelvis she was still getting accustomed to. The press of the glass base heavy against her mound, making her keenly and pleasantly aware of just how much control she now had.

She picked up the oil and he drew in a ragged breath. His body went rigid, and she liked that he was just as nervous as he was aroused. That would keep him on his toes. Hans was best when he wasn’t entirely sure of what she was going to do. It heightened his senses, made him wary, and Anna wanted Hans at his most alert, focused and trained on her.

His master.

She wanted him to feel _everything_ , right down to the tips of his toes to the top of his head.

He inhaled a long, drawn out breath, rife with tension when she opened the bottle of oil. Anna didn’t think he could look more uncomfortable, though his prick still stood proudly at attention. Aroused, but scared. There hadn’t been a hint of him going limp—a good sign.

“Relax,” she soothed, leaning over him to smooth his bangs off his forehead. “You’re not ready for the main course yet. We’re going to work up to that. It’s just going to be my finger first, and we’ve done that before. You loved it. Remember?”

He gulped, but nodded, his eyes wide and lips tight, breathing shallow and fast. Every so often he’d break eye contact and dart his gaze down at the massive cock dangling between her legs.

God, he was adorable like that. Vulnerable and cute. Frightened and curious.

“We can stop at any time,” she reminded calmly, her hand trailing down the side of his face to outline his jaw. He closed his eyes, nuzzling his cheek into her palm. An automatic response he fell into so often that it was a habit. “I won’t let anything happen to you that you don’t want. I know you, pet.”

He exhaled. “Okay.”

Hans actually tipped his pelvis up and spread his legs wide for her without her asking. So trusting. She poured a generous amount of oil on his puckered opening and onto her dominant hand. For this to work as painlessly as possible, lubrication was key. She knew that from her own experiences with sex, and figured the principles were the same regardless of openings. Big things needed generous amounts of lube.

She glanced at his erection, sure he’d gone stiffer, veins looking much more prominent with his balls drawn up tight and heavy at the base of his cock. Her green hair ribbon tied prettily around him, accentuating his arousal. She smiled to herself. _Always so eager_. But she wasn’t quite ready to grant him what he wanted just yet.

She brought out the feather duster again and teased his body mercilessly, focusing on his cock until his hips were bucking and he welcomed her at his hole, taking her slender finger in past both the joints quite quickly.

Anna rotated her finger, probing him firmly as he moaned and sighed, letting her violate him with more force than the last time he’d let her explore his ass. “Oh, you dirty, naughty boy,” she clucked, “you can’t get enough, can you?”

He shook his head no, panting as though he couldn’t catch his breath. Anna pressed her nearby fingers against his perineum, making him whimper in appreciation as she simultaneously massaged the soft hairless patch of skin between his anus and scrotum while fucking him slowly with her finger.

It was nothing to work another finger into him. He gasped at the intrusion, but allowed her to continue. As long as she kept him distracted with the feather duster teasing his stiff prick, driving him crazy with the light tickling until his cock was weeping, she could fill his ass with fingers.

She’d continue massaging and working him open until he’d beg for something bigger to fill him and grant him satisfaction. The trick was not giving him what he wanted while almost giving it to him. Staying just on the cusp of release. Building the pleasure.

When she’d got him going on three fingers plowing deep while he squirmed for more, Anna pulled her fingers out and put the duster down.

“Are you ready, pet?” she asked, gripping the glass cock tight in her fist.

He met her eye, his lips curving up into an anxious grin. “Yes.” He leaned his head back down on the table and lay before her like a sacrifice, willing her to make him feel everything she had promised him.

Anna slicked the dildo up with oil before crawling onto the table. Positioning herself between his splayed thighs, she aligned the tip of her cock with his ready anus, and waited. Making no movement to fuck him at all.

She let the seconds tick into minutes, poised at the ready, waiting. She licked her lips, enjoying the increasing impatient movements and twitches he made, his tolerance for waiting fading.

Finally, he gave a frustrated growl, his pelvis lifting from the table, trying to get within her reach. She made no effort to accommodate him and stayed still. After several attempts, and Anna flat out ignoring him, his head popped up from the table, his eyes angry and expression confused. “Why aren’t you—”

“Beg,” she commanded sternly.

It took only a moment for the command to register. She had promised she wouldn’t fuck him until he begged for it. He grinned, broad and toothy and impressed. “You really weren’t kidding earlier.”

She only gave him an expectant look.

“Please,” he sighed, that coy smile plastered across his face.

“That’s not begging, that’s acting.” She shuffled back from him just a fraction, and his face dropped.

“ _Please_ ,” he responded urgently. “My lady, please.”

“My lady please what?”

Completely obedient, he raised his legs up, his knees bent towards his chest, exposing his back opening for her as lewdly as possible. “Take me,” he whispered, and he’d never looked so good. So compliant. So perfect. So hers.

She leaned in towards him, tickling the feather duster lightly over his cock, particularly on his swollen glans. “Again.”

He thrashed his body on contact with the duster, twisting his head to the side in a low, gregarious moan, pulling his arms violently on his wrist restraints. Grunting like an animal. Primal and intense. Powerful and aggressive. Helpless to do her bidding.

“Please,” he cried, his eyes pleading, his brows furrowed, sweat glistening on his skin, sweet agony displayed on his face. He rolled on his spine, presenting himself to her like the needy little submissive he was. “I can’t take it anymore, my lady! Fuck me already!”

“Always so impatient, so eager,” she chided and he groaned in despair at her words. A sound so delectable it shot straight to her cunt. Made her wet. Made her nipples rock hard and tingly. She poked his entrance with the tip of her cock. Barely touching him.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” he begged, almost sobbing, and he sounded so weak, so pathetic, so very much _hers_ that she would quit teasing and oblige her poor, desperate, pet. He needed her to fill him. To grant him pleasure. And he’d done so good. Such a good, well behaved boy.

She’d hardly moved against him, and he was already near gone.

“ _Yes!_ ” he hissed in euphoria, looking half wild. “Yes! Do it! _Please!_ ”

“That’s it,” she encouraged, smirking as she eased into him slowly. The power she held over him arousing her beyond measure. “Tell me how badly you— _Oh!_ ”

She gasped in surprise, jerking to a stop as an unexpected bolt of pleasure lanced through her the moment the strap of the harness met the resistance of his body. Pressed taut on her clit, the strap had caused delicious friction with her movements, startling her right out of her role. She had not anticipated or calculated her own physical pleasure into the equation of fucking him.

She hadn’t even realized she’d stopped until Hans reacted.

He tipped his head up from the table again to look at her. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Her face flushed, self conscious and flustered. This wasn’t part of the plan. “One of the straps rubs against me rather nicely when I move…I…I hadn’t expected that.”

 “You’ve…” His tongue darted out, a quick lick across his lips before pursing them shut briefly. “You’ve never done this before?”

She didn’t know why, but there was a distinct note of joy in his voice instead of apprehension. She had expected him to be worried finding out for sure that she’d never taken a man before with a glass dildo and that this was a first. That he was her first. He’d been scared to do this in the beginning. He should have sounded worried. Instead, he sounded quite elated.

“That’s correct,” she answered, feeling awkward suddenly. She’d never thought of the details, really, only the act itself beforehand. It had never occurred to her that Hans might have assumed she had experience in this area. He hadn’t really thought she did this kind of stuff with Kristoff, did he? The very idea making her cringe. “It’s not entirely something a respectable wife would do.”

A crooked little smile spread across his lips, and he looked positively irresistible. “I guess this makes us both virgins then.”

She laughed, the tension drifting away with the sound. He was good at that, diffusing her apprehension, reminding her that she was in charge. “Yeah, I guess in a way it does.”

She hadn’t banked on it feeling good each time she pushed into him, and she couldn’t help but think that what they were doing was much more intimate than what she had originally planned, especially now that he’d mentioned they were each other’s firsts. The line being toed once again.

It should have given her pause to continue onward.

It didn’t.

Quite the opposite reaction stirred within her, and she was more than ready to cross the line, finding very few excuses not to.

“I like that,” he replied, his teeth biting his lower lip as though he was unsure he should have said anything at all.

He knew it too, she realized, that boundaries were being crossed. And she could see all at once that he was very aware of what they were doing, what she was now prepared to do.

And he wasn’t stopping her.

She straightened up, shaking off her anxiousness, embracing the unexpected but welcome hitch in her plans. “I still expect you to beg.” And she caught him off guard, pushing into him further, breaching him a few inches.

“Oh!” he hissed, sucking in air through his clamped teeth. “Oh! _Fuck_ , that’s _tight!_ ”

“Are you okay?” She watched him carefully, ready to pull out if need be.

He swallowed, catching his breath, but nodded his head. “I just… _oh God_ —” His eyes widened, and face blanched. “…Need a minute to…to get used to it.”

“Does this help?” she asked, flicking the feather duster back along his cock. His whole body jerked in response and he gave a strangled cry of pleasure.

“ _My lady!_ ” His voice wavered, his body involuntarily sliding up her glass cock, taking more in, and in turn, letting her feel the tension on her wet slit from the strap.

“That feels so _good_ ,” she sighed, leaning forward, the call of desire taking over as she slowly began to pump into him. Her cunt aching, hardly satisfied by the leather pressing into her, but the pleasure it gave built itself up bit by bit. White hot yearning throbbing at her very core. 

She needed more fiction, needed to move harder, faster, but conformed to delicate restraint. Hans wasn’t ready for that yet, he was still acclimating himself to a near unbearable girth, but like the good little pet he was, taking it. Inch by inch he was slowly taking her cock up his ass, and enjoying it. Immensely.

She kept her easy, soft rhythm until the dildo met less resistance, Hans relaxing and opening himself up to her. His entire body succumbing quickly to her slow, careful thrusts, allowing her to speed up the pace and increase the pressure.

He moaned blissfully, his head tilted back, the veins on his throat inviting under the translucence of his skin, begging to be sucked, for her tongue to travel the pulse line and taste the heat of his skin. She watched his neck muscles strain until she could no longer resist the urge to put her mouth on him as though they were lovers.

Something she hadn’t dared consider doing in the past.

“Right there,” he half whimpered half sighed. “ _Yes_ …right there!” His body shuddered beneath her as she continued to take him, and it was the last straw for her.

She needed him, her own release frustratingly slow, but nonetheless close and just within reach. She needed more leverage. Inching forward, she pressed further in towards him, invading his space. Hans practically bucking his hips to get more of her and she reacted. Quick and impulsive, she lifted one of his legs over her shoulder to get deeper access.  He cried out, gasps and curse words following with the sweet begging of ‘ _yes_ ’ filling the room.

She was almost on top of him, her body flush with his, bending him under her weight, the scent of his skin—raw sex with spice and soap spurring her senses and sparking her lust.

He was nearly there, consumed by desire, the exquisite bliss she’d promised almost at hand, and she couldn’t resist him in that state, knowing she was responsible for it.

Swept up in the same flood of passion she had plotted out for him, she sought out his neck, her lips fast and hard on his jugular. Nipping and dragging her mouth along his throat, up to his ear, ruthlessly tugging the lobe with her teeth. Enraptured, he writhed, her name tumbling from his throat, now an increasingly urgent chant on his lips.

Not ‘my lady’, no. Anna.

He was calling her by her name.

_Anna_.

There had only ever been one time Anna had heard her name spoken with such hunger, such need, such _yearning_. And at the time, she’d been hurt that it hadn’t come from Kristoff. Furious that it had come from Hans instead. But that had been before.

Before, at the beginning, when she had despised him, loathed him. Hated him.

But now…

Now?

Her lips found his, deliberately searching him out, answering his call, accepting him, loving him.

She wasn’t fucking him on his birthday, no matter what she had told herself. The truth escaping and no longer avoidable as his tongue met with hers, a desperate dance of passion that had been in the making for nearly two years. Since they had first met.

There was no mistaking this feeling, and the act that had flourished from it.

No, Anna wasn’t fucking Hans at all.

They were making love.

“Oh God,” she moaned against his lips, the taste of his tongue on hers. “ _Hans_.”

“ _Anna_ ,” he returned, just as breathless, just as needy, just as true, and she wondered just how long he’d been in love with her without her ever realizing it.

It overwhelmed her and she felt exuberant and free, like nothing in the world mattered but the two of them entwined, making love on his birthday. Hans loved her. Her heart sang, and her body thrummed with her slowly curated orgasm close at hand as she returned her lips to his, peppering his mouth with urgent kisses.

Grabbing his cock, she stroked him with her fist while she continued to drive her glass cock into him, frenzied, until both were screaming admissions of passion, surrendering to pleasure, and tasting elusive perfection.

She collapsed on top of him, and he groaned briefly under her weight pressing against his chest. She carefully slipped the glass cock from him, enjoying the way his body quivered, too sensitive, and letting it fall against his inner thigh. She carefully undid the ribbon from his spent cock.

“Happy Birthday, Hans,” she breathed, curling herself on top of him and sneaking in another gentle kiss before laying her head on his chest. She lay with him, exhausted and breathless and utterly content, basking in the afterglow of sex. A first for her.

“Anna?” he asked, his tone subdued and sleepy. “Can we stay like this for just a little while longer?

“Yes,” she answered, glad he had voiced it first. She liked her head on his chest, breathing in his scent, listening to his heartbeat slow down and feeling the rise and fall of his breath under her head. It was nice. She wasn’t used to the still and quiet moments after sex. Kristoff tended to roll away as soon as the deed was done, leaving the bed to clean himself up and bring her a towel to do the same.

The closest to physical intimacy Anna ever got with Kristoff was snuggling up to him at night and the way he’d drape his arm lightly over her. But cuddling in slumber with a man she held some affection for wasn’t quite the same as cuddling after sex with the man she loved.

It was a closeness she never knew she craved until now. Until lying, exhausted, on top of Hans, simply enjoying each other’s company. Just being. Two people who had been one only moments before, and weren’t quite ready to let go of that connection just yet.

_This is what love feels like_. _True love_.

And for the first time since he’d been imprisoned, the thought of love in conjunction with Hans didn’t frighten her.

He shifted beneath her, sighing happily. “Tell me something about yourself?” he asked, “Anything at all. Like what’s your favourite flower? Colour? Food?” That lazy, content voice of his melting her insides like liquid honey. “I want to know.”

She moved, snuggling up more to rest against his side than directly on top of him, a position she figured was much more comfortable for longevity than her current one, especially if they were going to partake in pillow talk. _Pillow talk_ , how she’d dreamed of this!

“I love sunflowers.”

He made a strangled, choking sound that made her sit upright and meet his eye.

“You’re kidding me,” he laughed, and she didn’t know why it was so funny. Sure, sunflowers were not the most expensive or fanciest flowers a girl could like, but certainly not a laughable choice.

“I’m not,” she answered indignantly. “Sunflowers are perfectly—”

“—They’re my favourite.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Now you’re just making that up.”

“No, no,” he said, lifting his head from the table, his expression earnest. “They really are my favourite. I even have a field of them back home.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Okay, well, not yet,” he admitted. “And not at _home_ -home, but I’ve got them at my poor excuse for an inheritance.” His voice went quiet, contemplative as though the topic had drifted his mind elsewhere. “I suppose I’ll have no choice but to take that up once I eventually go home. I’ll not have any other prospects…for the obvious reasons.”

“An inheritance?” Anna asked, wanting to turn the conversation back to sweet words and sentiments, but unable to stop herself from her question. It was rare Hans ever offered up any information about himself, even when asked. “Aren’t both your parents still alive?”

Hans heaved an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a pissant bit of property in Kongsberg—my uncle’s, on my mother’s side. He died without any heirs, so the property and titles transferred to her line. It’s decrepit, the house is in ruins, the land worthless, the title a joke.” He scoffed, suddenly sour. “So naturally it fell to me. Nobody else wanted it. I’ll take up the title of lord of the manor and live out my life in squalor and sunflowers. The property is overrun with them, and I didn’t see any point in getting rid of them, seeing as they’re the only nice thing about the place.”

“It doesn’t sound so bad,” Anna offered up. It wasn’t what Hans had wanted in life, but his recklessness and ambition had been his downfall, and now he’d had no choice but to eventually accept his dismal fate. Live with his consequences. Just as she would have to eventually accept her fate as Kristoff’s wife and move to the mountains, and live with her consequences.

She fell into a heavy silence. The reality that this thing she had with Hans couldn’t last forever looming just behind her.

“I’ll name the field after you, if you’d like,” he teased, a soft twinkle in his eye, and Anna could tell he was diffusing the topic on purpose, probably not wanting to dwell on the inevitable, not while they were lying here together. “Would you prefer ‘ _My Lady’s Field_ ’ or ‘ _Anna’s Field_ ’?”

She laid her head back down on his chest, smiling. _Best to enjoy it while you can_.

“I’ll let you decide.”


	22. Chapter 22

She’d arranged a long hot bath for him after she’d left him. A chance to soak his sore bottom and relax his muscles, which he did, rather gratefully. Even with the soak, he knew he’d be stiff in the morning.

_Worth it_.

It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to continue to grin like an idiot when the guard had come to unshackle him, and instead look pained and remorseful as though Anna had worked him over in a far less pleasant way.

Anna had wanted to stay and tend to his needs, pamper him, but it was late, and if her sister wasn’t wondering where she was, the staff would be. She’d been gone too long from her palace life, and they couldn’t risk suspicion.

He had loved the idea of soaking in the tub while she washed his back, maybe massage his shoulders, and he’d get to lean back and rest his head on her breasts. She’d be safe, and oh so warm. She’d tell him what a good boy he was, how handsome and how smart. She’d towel him off afterwards, and comb his hair, she’d even pick out his bedclothes, and he’d love it and let her, because he was her beloved pet.

Hans had to make do with soaking on his own in silence and looking after himself. But the fantasy of Anna there in his mind to do it for him made him happy. He carried that thought all the way back to his cell with him, wondering if someday they could do that without revealing what they were to everyone.

He missed her already, even after just seeing her over an hour ago. This was the worst he’d ever been in dealing with his feelings for her.

And it worried him.

As fun as Anna’s birthday surprise had been, it had taken its toll on him. Physically, he felt as though he’d been properly—and quite rightly—fucked. Anna had most definitely kept to her word on making him feel exquisite. He’d definitely felt exquisite. Mentally, their evening had been something else entirely to him. It hadn’t just been sex. They’d connected, they’d—

He didn’t want to even think the words in case they were wrong. In case he was wrong and had misread everything.

But his mind wouldn’t let him push it away, bury it and deny it. Not this time.

_Made love_.

_You and Anna made love. She took you. She kissed you_. _She even cuddled with you afterwards._

Their arrangement was beginning to spiral out of control, whether either had meant it to or not, and Hans couldn’t trust that he hadn’t meant it to. He wanted her in a way he could never have, and as much as he knew the boundaries, it didn’t stop him from nudging the edges when he could to see if he could get just a little bit more of her than allowed. Half the time he wasn’t even aware he was doing it until afterwards.

With Anna, everything he did just seemed natural, normal.

He’d called her by her name, repeatedly, and she hadn’t reprimanded him. Instead, she’d called him by his name back. He wasn’t allowed to do that. He’d slipped up and she had let it slide.

_She kissed you_. _Really fucking kissed you_.

Another rule of hers broken.

_She’s allowed to break the rules, stupid, you aren’t_.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to think, trying to process everything that had happened. Playing it all over on a loop in his head. He was in love with her, and by all accounts that he could figure, she must have feelings for him too. Unless he was overanalyzing, reading too much into it. Making a mountain out of a molehill. Wanting something so badly he was deluding himself into thinking it was real.

Anna was happily married.

But every time she came to him, it was getting harder and harder for him to remember that.

Harder for him to accept that Anna wasn’t his, even though he was hers.

And for the first time since they’d started meeting, Hans really resented the power imbalance between them. Something he used to take pleasure in and adore now caused him unbearable grief and heartache. He didn’t want to feel like this anymore. Conflicted and guilty. How could he be bad, loathsome, when she’d trained him so well? When she called him her good boy?

And he was tired of pining after her. Tired of sharing her.

No, Hans wanted her all to himself, wanted to prove that he was finally worthy of keeping her heart, and the admission scared him.

He needed something to temper his emotions, to quell the uncertainty. His hand went on instinct to his collar, the cool oval tag, smooth against his fingertips save for her inscription, a comfort. Something physical to believe in.

_Hans… belongs to Anna_.

The heavy door to his cell creaked open, and Hans dropped his hand to his lap, looking up from his cot. The aroma of food caught his attention before the guard carrying it did. His stomach rumbled and he rose to meet the man.

The guards never made any mention of the collar, though they’d had to have seen it by now. They pretended it didn’t exist, blotting it from their vision, and Hans did whatever he could to avoid drawing their attention to it. It was none of their business anyway.

He’d never heard a single guard ever speak a word against Anna, and he often wondered if Anna just had such a natural effect of instilling loyalty in people that the guards simply did not question what she did down here anymore, or if they ever had.

“Princess Anna figured you’d be hungry.” The man brought the tray to the slot on his cell door and slid it to Hans. “Guess she felt badly keeping you past your supper.” The guard nodded to a heavily frosted cupcake beside his dinner plate, as though the dessert was meant as an apology instead of the final surprise she’d planned for his birthday. What was a birthday without cake?

Hans thanked the guard, and sat down to eat. He never seemed to noticed how hungry he was until food was brought, and again, Anna had outdone herself, giving him a birthday meal fit for royalty. He tucked in, wolfing down his supper, happy to be distracted, however briefly, from his thoughts.

Reaching for his cupcake, he paused, finding a small slip of paper neatly folded in half and hidden underneath the cake. He picked it up, reading the note:

_‘I hope you had a Happy Birthday’_

Followed by a little drawn heart and her first initial.

Warmth flooded him. A heart. She’d signed her note with a heart.

_Love_.

_Love Anna_.

He read the note again and again. Smiling broader every time he looked at her words. A confirmation he’d been driving himself crazy wondering over the past few months.

He wanted to tell her that he’d had the best birthday of his life all because of her.

And that he wanted to know when hers was.

***

“What a hideous man,” Elsa hissed between her teeth as Anna stood beside her, waving off Prince Lennart and his entourage from the palace, smiling amicably with the fakest smiles humanly possible. It was late afternoon and Prince Lennart had more than overstayed his welcome. “It’s fortunate we won’t have to see his face for another four years.”

Anna hid a chuckle behind her hand, and Elsa grinned at her, trying to sound indignant but failing, “Well, it’s true and we both know it.”

“At least you got what you wanted from the trade agreements,” Anna supplied. “And more.”

“Yes,” Elsa agreed. “The first time I’ve ever had to have dealings with a drunkard as an ambassador, but it certainly worked in our favour. More so than I think playing on our victimhood did.” When Prince Lennart was finally out of sight, she turned to Anna. “I am sorry about that. Had I known he’d be like _that_ , I never would have let you deal with him. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been escorting him to the palace.”

Anna shrugged. “He was awful, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“You never let anything get you down, do you?” Elsa smiled again, her expression wistful. “I sometimes wish I could be more like that. It comes so naturally to you that you make it look so easy.”

“Believe me,” Anna replied, instinctively jumping in to reassure. “He got on my nerves just as quickly as he got on yours.”

Elsa laughed at that, then suddenly went somber and distant. Anna noticed the change right away, and saw that her sister’s change in mood came with the sight of Kristoff arriving home. “Oh, Anna,” she sighed, “whatever am I going to do without you when you’re gone?”

Anna was about to reply, but Kristoff’s arrival had Elsa politely retreating back into the palace, citing all the work she had to get done today, leaving Anna alone to greet her husband. Reminding Anna that even the queen couldn’t keep her from the mountains for forever. Anna had duties to the crown as the appointed ambassador of Arendelle to the trolls. And the trolls never left their mountain glade.

“You’re back early,” Anna said as Kristoff leaned in and stiffly gave her a peck on the cheek. A staged token of affection that she wished he didn’t have to do, but onlookers expected to see a young couple in love.

“Yeah,” he started, his hand scratching the back of his neck. “I had some stuff on my mind. Can we…maybe go somewhere to talk? Alone?”

Anna gulped involuntarily. Kristoff was rarely so serious, but things had never quite been the same between them after he’d confessed why they had really married, making her question just how well she thought she knew Kristoff after all. How much of Kristoff had been Kristoff, and not just what everyone expected him to be as her husband?

“Sure,” she answered.

His smile was tight, but he nodded, leading her away to the palace gardens. They walked side by side in silence and Anna really missed the days when conversation came easy, when Kristoff was that sarcastic boy, teasing her playfully and making her laugh. They’d used to be able to tell each other everything and anything, but their friendship had been dashed by responsibilities and grave mistakes. Kristoff her best friend had become Kristoff her husband, and unfortunately the two roles could not be one and the same.

“Once upon a time, we’d never have this much silence between us,” he commented, not looking at her, but staring straight ahead as they walked. “I know it’s my fault.”

Anna kept silent. The infamous talk of the mountains that they’d both been avoiding was now at hand, waiting in the wings, and Anna wasn’t ready for it. She wasn’t ready to be angry with him again. She didn’t want to fight with Kristoff, but she didn’t want to just go willingly to her life with him in the mountains either. She’d thought she had more time. She hadn’t even had a chance to say anything about it to Hans.

Well, that wasn’t true, she’d had plenty of opportunities to tell Hans, she just hadn’t. Preferring to live in her dreams for as long as she could before facing the inevitable. Today, it seemed, was the inevitable. She cursed silently. She never should have put telling him on hold. This couldn’t have come at a worse time.

She’d only just discovered that what she and Hans had wasn’t some ordinary little indulgence based on whims and lust. Maybe it had started out that way, but it had grown into something much more. Love. True love.

It had only been last night. Hours ago. Kristoff wasn’t even supposed to be home. He was two days early, and everything she had just managed to figure out for herself was going to be upheaved and scattered again.

Kristoff stopped walking when they reached a secluded bench overlooking the duck pond, and sat down, motioning for her to join him. Reluctantly, Anna sat.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he started, swallowing audibly, “about us. I’m sure you have too.” His hand was back to scratching his neck, a nervous habit he did when uncomfortable. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, that I’m not… _that_ guy.”

Anna froze. Her heart nearly stopping in a panic. _Oh God_. Did he know? Surely, she’d kept her time with Hans hidden from him? She had been so careful, always making sure Kristoff was nowhere in sight whenever she had gone to Hans.

“I can explain,” she said immediately, but could she? What was she supposed to say? How did one go about telling their husband that they were in love with their ex-fiancé that was currently serving time in the kingdom’s dungeon for his crimes of attempted regicide and treason?

“You don’t need to,” Kristoff stated. “I know I’m never going to be that guy you always pictured would be the one for you, you know? I’m not that guy in your romance stories, and I don’t think I ever can be.”

Anna breathed a sigh of relief.  He didn’t know. She’d nearly jumped the gun. Kristoff hadn’t been talking about Hans at all, but some fantasy version of a lover instead. She leaned back against the back of the bench, trying to steady her nerves. She’d almost blown it, almost told her husband she was in love with another man, that she was embroiled in a salacious—

She inhaled sharply. The truth hitting like a ton of bricks.

_Oh no. No, no, no, no, no._

She was in _an affair_.

An extramarital affair with Hans.

“Are you okay?” Kristoff asked, her gasp triggering his concern.

“Yes,” she lied, hating how easy it had become. “Just put my hand into a spiderweb here.”

“Lots of those in the mountains.” He laughed nervously.

“Yeah.”

Her lack of response or smile, had him going silent again, and she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that it was hers, but the words just wouldn’t sound. Guilt seeping in. She was just as much to blame as Kristoff was for how they’d ended up here. For the steady downfall of their marriage.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching the ducks frolic in the pond, his lips drawn tight. Anna welcomed the silence, still trying to work her admission to herself out, trying to come to grips with what she had done—was doing.

She’d started a love affair. A secret tryst. A scandalous rendezvous.

All because her husband’s touch left her cold and wanting. She was walking the edge of a knife and though she had sworn to herself she would no longer feel guilty or ashamed of what she did with Hans, she knew now what it really was—an affair. An extramarital affair whether they’d had what the church deemed as sex or not. There was no doubt that they were in a relationship, and one she valued just as much, if not more, than her marriage.

She’d been lying to herself right from the beginning.

But Hans had always known. He had to have. He’d been adamant right from the beginning that they be kept secret, especially from her now husband. Thank God, one of them had sense and some clarity in the beginning, otherwise they might have been caught early on before anything between them developed past lust.

Only what was she supposed to do now?

_The right thing_.

She cringed. Sick with guilt and grief. She was the one in the wrong here. She was the one being unfaithful, going behind her husband’s back, seeking out affection and validation elsewhere. Finding comfort and pleasure in another man. Forsaking her marriage vows. Her stomach turned, bile rising in her throat. Was what she was doing just as bad as Kristoff marrying her out of duty? Or was it worse?

Kristoff’s intentions had been noble, but hers…what had hers been?

“So anyway…” Kristoff broached, breaking her thoughts and slow-building panic. “I was thinking, you know, about you and the mountains.” He stopped, shifting his weight off his knees to lean back into the bench as though he was trying his best to look relaxed and casual. “And I know the last time we spoke about it, I did it badly. Everything about it was bad. How I brought it up, how I reacted when you said you—” he glanced at her nervously, hurt flickering in his eyes, “when you said you hated the mountains, ice harvesting… _God, Anna_ , could you say something? Or at least look at me for more than two seconds?” His hand was through his hair and he was leaning forward again, restless and agitated.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know what else to say.

He choked back a sob, before sighing heavily. “I’ve made a real mess out of this. I—I just wish things could go back to the way they were between us. The way we used to be. Erase it all and start over brand new. A clean slate. I…I miss you.”

Her breath hitched at his admission.

Anna did look at him then, his head collapsed in his hands, elbows back on his knees. He looked so weary, so defeated. Her chest ached. Was this really what they had become? Two people who used to be as close as peas in a pod now unable to even look each other in the eye? Strangers making polite conversation, stepping around each other in avoidance?

“I don’t think we can go back to that,” Anna said quietly, her voice catching. Even if they had both wanted to, there was no way of forgetting everything, wiping the slate clean and starting over as though nothing bad between them had happened.

“I know.” He stood up abruptly. “But I want you to know that I want to make this right. _Us_ right. See, I’ve been thinking, a lot lately, about everything, and I don’t see why we can’t both get what we want.”

Anna frowned. What could Kristoff possibly understand about what she wanted? He’d been wrong about her for so long now, never seeing, never realizing everything she was. Only aware of her surface and nothing underneath. She supposed that was her fault too.

Still, his words had piqued her interest, and knowing Kristoff, he rarely thought extensively about anything unless he deemed it of great importance.

“And what do you have in mind?” she asked, trying her best to meet him halfway.

“So far as I can see, there isn’t any real reason you have to stay with me exclusively in the mountains. I mean, us ice harvesters are back and forth regularly between Arendelle and the mountains, me included. Why shouldn’t you be able to come and go from the mountains to the palace? It’d be nothing to drop you off for a few days while in Arendelle on an ice delivery.”

It was brilliant, actually. Anna was surprised she hadn’t thought of it herself.

“It’s not a perfect solution,” he continued, “and I haven’t exactly said anything about it to my family yet…”

“I think it’s perfect enough.”

He turned to her, grinning, his hands clasping hers tightly as though she’d just given him the boost of confidence he’d needed. As though they were back at the beginning. “I know this isn’t exactly what you wanted in a marriage, but if you’ll let me, I think I can make you happy. I can be a good husband.” His eyes shone, excitement flickering through. “I’ve got our cabin all set up now, even made a few additions—bookshelves for your books, a proper cozy chair to read them in, it’s all ready and waiting. All it needs is you…so, what do you say?”

He looked so earnest, so hopeful, and he was trying. God, he was really trying, and Anna knew what her answer had to be. There was only one. She had always known that there was only one answer she could give him. She couldn’t live in a dream forever, no matter how wonderful that dream was. Falling in love with Hans had never been part of the plan, and they had both known that.

“Yes.”

Kristoff nearly jumped up and down before he leaned in to kiss her properly, and Anna forced herself to let him. For the first time, she was repulsed by the idea of Kristoff touching her so intimately. Nothing had felt more wrong to her than his lips on hers. He didn’t kiss like Hans. At all. He never would. There was nothing there in his kiss for her, but in Kristoff himself, there was a future for her.

“We can get Gerda to pack your things today and be ready within days!” He hugged her tightly and her immediate instinct was to worm her way out of his embrace.

_What the hell is wrong with you?_ she scolded herself. _It’s Kristoff. You’re used to this, to him_.

“Sure.” She smiled weakly, regret already sinking in as she pulled out of his grasp. She was doing the right thing…right?

She hated that the answer was yes.

She owned him that much. She knew that. He was trying, and that was more than she had done for this marriage. That was going to have to change. She could see that. She was going to have to meet him halfway. While she had been busy living in a fantasy, her reality had been suffering. It was time she started to accept that she was married to a man that she didn’t love passionately, but a man who would treat her well and give her a good life.

She only had to let him.

The truth was simple, Hans wouldn’t be in Arendelle forever. And even if he was, society would never allow them to be together, and neither would Elsa nor Kristoff. But that didn’t mean Anna couldn’t have both. There was no reason Anna couldn’t nurture both relationships and see them both to the end. Hans, after three years when he’d be released, and Kristoff…she internally winced…after a lifetime.

If she didn’t try to fix things with Kristoff, she’d be miserable for the rest of her life, and she didn’t want that. As much as she loved Hans with all her heart, she had to look out for her future. She had already seen what she could become in her melancholy and unhappiness, and she couldn’t let that happen again, not when Kristoff was giving them a second chance.

And she knew a good future could exist with Kristoff. Not like with Hans where nothing was certain or set in stone. And she had roots here, a family, loyalties and responsibilities. There was no way she could ever be so selfish as to abandon her duties and her family. Even for love. This thing with Hans would have to run its course and it would be over. Hans had next to nothing to his name, there was no way he could provide her a comfortable life even if by some miracle she could have him.

It hurt immensely to admit it, but a settled life was better than a disgraced one.


	23. Chapter 23

What had she done? She felt like a thousand butterflies lived in her stomach.

It was all happening so fast.

Kristoff was thrilled, Elsa and Olaf were thrilled, and Anna was…in a state of shock.

She had made her choice, and chosen to save her marriage. Salvage what had been wrecked and pick up the pieces, trying to make them whole.

But it would never be whole, and Anna knew that.

Whole was with Hans.

Her clothing and accessories were being packed by a small army of servants with Anna standing in her bedchamber having article after article thrust in her face. Take this blouse, leave that skirt. Keep those hair ribbons here, yes, pack those combs.

She moved as though she were a marionette on strings controlled by some unseen puppeteer up above the stage of her life. The bustle of servants in and out of her room, the bombardment of questions, her life compartmentalized into two categories: Palace or Mountains, but really all Anna heard was, _‘Hans or Kristoff?’._

“This hat, my lady?” one servant asked, struggling with the box that contained her glass dildos and harness.

“Here,” Anna answered, her complexion paling. _Good Lord_ , she had forgotten the risks of servants packing her things. How the hell would she explain _that_ if the contents were revealed? “In fact, I’ll just take that.” Anna snatched the box from the surprised servant, tucking it on the bottom shelf of her nightstand.

She’d have to find a way to get down to the dungeons and at least mention to Hans that she’d be gone for a number of days. Months maybe. She kept telling herself that she didn’t owe him an explanation or answer to where she was and what she was doing when not with him, and in the past, she had never thought to give him any of those things—

Only now things were different.

Now she loved him.

He wasn’t just a pet anymore. He was her lover.

Last night had changed everything between them. The jumbled pieces of her life had been rearranged and set, and fit together perfectly. She found exactly what she had been missing. And now she was desperately trying to juggle two separate lives and keep them both. What else could she possibly do?

It wasn’t as though she and Hans had made declarations and promises to each other. For all she knew, she was the only one in _love_ -love and Hans was simply infatuated with her. And she couldn’t bank her life, _her future_ on something so…so…unconfirmed. Unreliable. Her brain, reminding her for the zillionth time over that she was doing the right thing. The only thing to do in such a scenario.

If she were caught in the midst of an affair…well, she’d have to rely on Kristoff to keep his claim on her, keep her from being ostracised and labelled a fallen woman. She hated placing him in such a position, but she could not end things with Hans. She just couldn’t. Not yet. Not when everything about him gave her life meaning and passion. Zest for her soul.

It was not lost on her that the only reason she’d be able to keep Hans in the first place was because of Kristoff deciding that she could live independently of him at the palace on and off. Splitting her time between the kingdom and the mountains. And in order to keep that arrangement, Anna would have to leave with him in a few days and be gone for a length of time from the palace. From Hans.

Her chest tightened at the thought.

She didn’t want to leave Hans. Not when everything between them felt so new and fragile and _wonderful_.

But she was doing what she had deemed the best course of action, even if deep down, everything felt like a grave mistake.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Hans, even in the midst of the move, he was always there, first and foremost in her mind. She needed to see him before she left. She couldn’t bear the mountains without at least something from him to sustain her. A mere chaste kiss would do.

But it wasn’t going to happen, much to Anna’s dismay and heartache.

Anna had not anticipated how clingy Elsa would be in her last few days at the palace, nor how Kristoff was busy vying for her time as well, a renewed sense of husbandry taking hold of him. And with each touch, Anna was finding it more and more difficult to remember that Kristoff was her husband.

That in the past, Kristoff’s attentions, while not earthshattering, were not entirely unpleasant either. But her body just recoiled from him on instinct. Her heart did not want him and the physical affection she had at one time desperately wanted from him, was now the last thing she wanted from him.

It was worrisome, a problem she knew she’d have to get over. She needed more time to think on the solution, but time was not a commodity she had to spare.

It was split between the two people who loved her most. Even Olaf was hard to dodge, wanting Anna’s time too. She favoured Elsa’s companionship over Kristoff, but it still left her no time to visit the dungeons. That wasn’t even mentioning the kingdom fanfare Elsa had organized, parades, feasts and celebrations throughout the kingdom honouring Anna as the officially appointed Ambassador of Arendelle to the Trolls. The first ever to hold such a position.

It was all overwhelming and disorienting for her, not used to being the center of attention or being constantly sought after by multiple people. She did her best in the face of the public to appear pleasant and excited, playing her role to a tee. Outwardly presenting as the paragon of princess, and what everyone expected her to be. A woman saved by love, by a good respectable man with all her wickedness washed clean. Inside, she was fraught with worry and living a lie. She needed to get to Hans, but an opportunity never presented itself.

Her short number of days left in Arendelle flew by in a haze and a flurry, until she had only two days left. She had to tell Hans she’d be leaving, and hated that she had not been able to sneak off to see him. The risk of being caught was too great.

Conflicted and heart heavy over the whole matter, she tried her best to make everything work to her favour, but felt as though with each ticking minute she was failing. Everything was coming to a head at once, meeting in the middle.

Guilt ate away at her whenever she was alone with Kristoff, knowing she’d rather be with Hans, and knowing that Kristoff had no idea he was in a competition with another man for her affection, and that he had lost horribly.

It mingled with the joy and excitement she felt being the centre of Elsa’s attention. She had adored the extra time with Elsa, cherishing the kinship and familial bond. And she hated that she was ever furious with Elsa in the past. Her sister meant well, and only wanted the best for her because she loved Anna more than anything else in the world. Elsa simply showed her affectionate differently, and Anna could see that now.

But neither Kristoff nor Elsa was the person she had really wanted to be spending her time with.

_He_ was sitting alone in the Arendelle dungeons, unaware that Anna was leaving.

The one person she wanted to see most of all, was the one person she couldn’t see no matter how many times she had tried to sneak away to do so. It was as though the world was conspiring against her, and with each passing day, her life spiralled further and further out of her control.

Always, she was asking herself if she was really doing the right thing. It was what she had been taught was the correct response, the respectable course of action. What was expected of her. She had made her bed. Now she had to lie in it…with Kristoff.

She shuddered at the thought, dreading her marriage bed now more than ever, knowing that she didn’t love Kristoff and couldn’t seem to make herself tolerate his touch anymore.

How could she ever truly welcome him when he was not the man she dreamed of, desired, loved? That spot belonged to Hans, and she could see now that it always had. Her heart had never belonged to Kristoff, and now that she knew that for sure, it was damn near impossible to pretend that Kristoff could take Hans’s place as a substitute in her heart.

Everything was all wrong, and she knew it. She had messed up.

And she still had no idea how she was going to fix any of it.

But for now, she had to endure. She had to put on a brave face and live her reality, carving out a place for herself in a world she didn’t quite fit into, but the world she belonged to and had been born into. This was her place. Her lot in life.

She very nearly claimed a headache when Kristoff came to her bedchamber that night, intent on coupling. Convinced they were on the right track to fixing everything. _He’s trying_ , she reminded herself. _It’s the very least you can do_. She pulled back the blankets and allowed him into bed with her. His body too hot, too unfamiliar, his kisses too wet and too empty, and she did not love him.

_God_ , she never would.

Oh, he tried. Tried to follow her instructions. Tried to make her see stars, feel what he did so deeply that his entire body shuddered with his release, a release she pretended she felt too so it would be over and she could have herself back. So she could imagine Hans instead, without Kristoff distracting her and doing everything wrong. Jarring the fantasy. Everything about her husband irritating her.

She let his lips touch hers again before he rolled over in bliss, snoring soundly within minutes while she lay there, clutching her bedsheet, annoyed and alone, and if she had to spend all her nights in the mountains unsatisfied, relying on herself, she’d walk out into the forest and scream until her voice was gone.

Even when Kristoff tried, he couldn’t pleasure her, couldn’t satisfy her needs. Couldn’t ignite even a smidgen of heat or passion. He never could. She was doomed to a life of being eternally sexually frustrated. Relying solely on herself.

And she despised it. Hated it.

She’d never not been in control of her own climax. Just once she wanted to let someone else make her feel that bliss, that loss of control, diving headfirst into pleasure.

She wanted someone to make her scream out in rapture, forget her own name, see not just stars but the whole galaxy. She wanted to feel a lover take her, make her come, bask in affection and attention. Make her feel special. Make her feel like her needs were all that mattered. Make her feel _loved_.

Before, she could tolerate lukewarm coupling, bear the burden, but now that she knew what romantic love was supposed to feel like, what it _could_ feel like—that it was intoxicating and wonderful—she couldn’t keep pretending.

Kristoff would never be able to give her that feeling that Hans could.

And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had been wrong. Made the wrong decision.

She couldn’t do this anymore.

She didn’t know why she thought she ever could. This wasn’t who she was.

Was disappointing herself really worth less than disappointing everyone else?

She’d never felt more trapped.

Scrubbing her hands over her face, perturbed, wide awake, and hating herself for knowing that she couldn’t live her life with Kristoff. That _‘til death do we part’_ was an awfully long time. No matter how sweet and accommodating Kristoff was.

Panic welled up in her throat, threatening to escape and wake him up. Something she did not want.

Her heart knew where she wanted to be before her body even knew what it was doing.

Risks be damned. It was time she put herself first.

Slipping from her bed, minutes after disappointment and failure, the scent of Kristoff still on her skin, his seed still wet on her inner thighs, she tugged her nightgown down her body, her heart firmly set. She didn’t bother with a dressing gown, not willing to waste anymore time than she already had. She couldn’t, not while she was so close to losing it, tears threatening to spill, body trembling.

_Quick now, before you lose your nerve. Before you bottle it all up again_.

She snatched her bedside lamp, turning the wick down low, and stole away from her husband and her marriage bed. Going straight to the dungeons.

Straight to Hans.


	24. Chapter 24

The heavy wooden door that separated his cell from the rest of the inmates lurched open, the sound jerking him awake. His immediate response was to snark at the guard for interrupting his slumber. Only he knew within an instant that this was no guard paying him a visit.

Everything was near black in his cell, the moonless night providing nothing through his high, barred window. Not even the gaslights outside were lit, telling him how late it was. Everything was quiet and still, except for the shaking lamplight at the door and the soft sniff of tears.

Anna.

He was up from his cot immediately and at the bars, as close to the lamplight that the iron would allow him. As close to his lady as he could possibly get, and it still not being close enough. It would never be close enough. He wanted to scream in frustration that she was obviously upset and needed him and he couldn’t be _right there_.

_These damn bars_.

“What’s happened?” he demanded fiercely, feeling overprotective and worried and disoriented all at once, but knowing with ever fibre of his being that something was _wrong_. Very wrong, and he thought instantly to that day of the accident in the dungeon. That day he hadn’t done enough, hadn’t known what to do to help her except obey. He’d not make the same mistake this time. “Are you all right?”

“Hans,” she said, her voice frail and wavering and not at all the Anna he knew. Not at all _his_ Anna. Dread pooled in his stomach at that single word.

“What’s wrong?”

She placed the lamp down on the ground and in the halo of light, he frowned, realizing she was barefoot and only in her nightgown, sending off all sorts of alarms in his head.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered.

It was like being stabbed through the chest, or at least, what he imagined being stabbed through the chest would feel like. Sharp and quick, a sudden shock to the system, with the pain seeping in quietly afterwards. He gripped the bars for support, feeling woozy. She couldn’t end this. Not now, not ever, not while he needed this, needed her. Loved _her_. How could she even think to—

“It’s all a lie. I’ve…I’ve made a dreadful mistake.” Her hands were combing through her wild tresses as she began to stalk up and down the small column of space outside his cell, cagey like a captured animal. “I…I can’t keep pretending… _conforming_ …”

“Please…” _Don’t leave. Don’t leave me._ His voice caught, verging on desperation, “Anna… _my lady_ …”

She stopped in mid stride and whirled around to face him, her eyes glossy and red rimmed, the tracks of fresh tears glistening down her cheeks, dotting her nightgown where they fell. “I can’t pretend with him anymore.”

_Him?_

_Him._ Not _you._

It was enough to break him from his panic, to snap his mind back into action and work out exactly what the hell was going on, and why Anna was standing before him in her nightclothes at some God forsaken hour of night.

Entertaining the possibility that maybe her distress had nothing to do with him…and instead…someone else, gave him hope. A slip of a chance. The only other _him_ Hans could possibly think of was her husband.

And if Anna was upset with her husband and coming to him…

“Anna?” Hans asked, his spine straightening, immediately jumping at his opening and steering things to where they felt familiar and he felt in control and could help. “Why are you here?”

 

She paused. The question ringing in her ears. His tone of voice, the way he said it, his posture, everything about it was pure Hans, and not the Hans she considered her pet. In coming to him in such a state of vulnerability, she’d given him a chance to gain the upper hand, to hold power over her. She had come to him weakened, her authority up for grabs…and it looked like he was taking it.

But what did it matter anymore which one of them was the dominant and which was the submissive? She was in love with him, and could very easily imagine herself bending to his every whim, his very will. Could he sense that? That their entire dynamic had unraveled in a moment of weakness? That she was the one desperate and needy?

She couldn’t be what he needed when her own needs were not being met. When right now, she needed him possibly more than he needed her. She had come here, reckless and wild. An impulse that could be her undoing. A risk she had taken for the sake of her desires.

She didn’t know if this was about restoring balance, or no longer caring and tipping the scales on purpose.

It was terrifying, acting in her best interests, looking out for herself for once. Putting herself first. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, a strong wind at her back. One small falter, a single slip up and things would be forever altered. This, right here, right now was her cliff. And she could leave, stepping away to safety, or she could face it and risk the plunge. It was now or never.

“I don’t love him.”

Hans’s inhale of breath was so fierce, so audible that she almost fled. A frightened mouse scurrying back to her sister, back to safety. To conformity.

Her admission had shocked him, yet he remained solid and straight, still at the bars, attentive to her and only her. Still a pet. Her pet, even though she was failing as his master.

_Why are you here?_

There was any number of places she could have gone upon realizing she couldn’t keep pretending with Kristoff, that she did not love her husband and could no longer bear his touch. But she had gone on instinct to see Hans. Her body knew exactly what and who it wanted.

_Needed_.

Months of being unsatisfied and sexually frustrated had accumulated to the point that she had fled to the only place she knew she could find satisfaction. It was beyond telling. She could only imagine what she looked like to him right now. Barely dressed, crying, frazzled and shaking in the calm dark of the night.

That Hans held that power over her…

She was an opportunity wide open to him, and all he’d have to do was reach out and snatch it, and she’d relinquish everything to him. The pet now the master.

His eyes were on her even as she glanced away, staring at the stone floor, unable to meet him. She could feel the heat of his gaze, watching, waiting. Any minute now he’d seize control. She’d inadvertently let him off the leash, and she wasn’t even sure she cared.

Because it was all too much.

All the frustration, all the anger, all the despair bubbled up to the surface within her. The truth spilling out before she could stop it. Before she could think better of it. “I can’t with him…I…I never have…”

“Can’t what?” he asked, his head tilting quizzically to the side, and she could see his mind already working, looking for his advantage, his time to strike, and she wondered how she ever believed him tame.

And did she even _want_ him tamed?

“Orgasm!” she cried, her body trembling in anger, the tears hot and flowing, molten just like her emotions. Shame lancing through her at the admission, at the truth. Revealing the lie she’d been living and all the guilt that followed. “And it’s not like I haven’t tried, like we haven’t…but I just _can’t_ with him, do you understand? I can’t come with him. I’ve never been able to!” Her anger dissolved into great heaving sobs the moment she’d let it all out. “How am I supposed to keep doing this?”

_God_ , what was she even _doing_ here? How was Hans supposed to help her when what she wanted dismantled their roles? Their relationship?

His voice was calm, steady, and Anna wasn’t sure she could handle him like this. So in control of himself while she was so wildly out of control. “Are you saying you’ve never had a lover grant you an orgasm? That unless you do it yourself—”

“Yes!” she cried in exasperation at him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! So I can’t be this…this…” she waved her hands around the cell erratically, “… _whatever_ it is for you anymore! It’s too close to the edge, too tempting, too—”

“Command me,” he said simply, and she froze. “My lady, command me to pleasure you.”

It was exactly what she’d come here for. He was saying it so she wouldn’t have to. Making it clear that he was game. That he understood. That he wouldn’t call out their word…even if she did. They both knew why she was here, just as they both knew why she couldn’t, shouldn’t, be here.

To break all her rules and give such a command would be to descend into depravity and disgrace.

She balked, clinging to the shreds of her pride and decency. Clinging to the familiar life she had been living. “It doesn’t work that way! I can’t just—”

He pressed his face in between the bars, and stared at her, his gaze intense enough to steal her words, her breath. His eyes never more serious. “Order me to make you come. You know I can. You know I will. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Hans…” she faltered, her will continually failing and grasping frantically at excuses. “I…we…can’t. I’ve just left him…I’m not even cleaned up…I went straight from him to you—”

He scoffed, amused, pulling away from the bars. “Do you honestly think any of that matters to me? I am your pet.”

“I—”

Her words caught in her throat as he tugged his nightshirt off over his head and tossed the garment onto his cot. Making his point clear. Naked but for his collar. Hers. His semi erect arousal visible and enticing in the dim light. She licked her lips, trying not to stare, trying to keep acting like her moral compass pointed north.

He stepped forward and dropped to his knees, looking up at her. His eyes wide and pleading, innocent even, his hands back to clutching the bars.

In an instant, he was every bit her submissive pet. Her irresistible, compliant, eager to please pet. And her loins ached to see him like that, her heart burned, even knowing he was doing it on purpose. That he was using every advantage he had over her. Falling so easily into his place, the one she found most pleasing, knowing she couldn’t resist him for long and that he would get his way and give her what she needed above all else, despite her feeble reservations.

And it made it so much easier, didn’t it? Taking the onus off of her, taking all the guilt, taking all the responsibility for it off of her. She wasn’t to blame if she was seduced, if she negated all her rules and succumbed to him. Her loyal pet would take all the blame, just as months ago, he had taken all her anger. If she was going to fall, he would be there at the bottom waiting to catch her.

She had come here specifically for this. She only had to say it. He hadn’t taken her authority, hadn’t tried to take anything she hadn’t given. Even at her weakest, most vulnerable, Hans had remained her pet, acting within the boundaries she had set. Proving his loyalty. 

“My lady,” he whispered solemnly. “I am yours. My pleasure is _your_ pleasure. My purpose is to serve you. I am your devoted pet. Order me, and I will obey. I will carry out your instruction to the very letter…you only need let me. Give the command and I will see it done.”

The last vestige of resistance slipped through her fingers. She needed this. Needed him. There was no turning back or pretending she was a respectable lady tonight. She’d denied herself for too long now. It was time to give in to this depravity, to carnality. To love, however forbidden it might be.

“I want you to pleasure me,” she answered, her voice shaking and raw as she spoke. “Pet, I demand you make me come.”

“As my lady wishes.”

And quick as lightning, he moved on her. His arms snaking through the bars to grip her hips and jerk her towards him. She stifled a moan at the force, at the passion behind his quick, deliberate movements, the way he bunched her nightgown up around her hips in record speed. Quick as a viper striking—a fitting comparison for Hans—his fingers had found their way to the apex between her thighs, still wet from her marital coupling, and with one firm finger locating her clit, Hans stroked her hard and with intent.

Her orgasm came quickly and without warning. His expert finger working her little pleasure nub over so fast, she’d barely had time to register that she was coming well before she was ready to.

Before she could even fully enjoy the sensation, it was over.

Too quick, and she numbed, dazed that in a matter of seconds, Hans had fulfilled her command. Her body tingled, somewhat sated by the quick release, but her heart yearned for more. She had thought for sure that if she’d let him do it, control her pleasure, he’d draw it out, build it up, the way a lover would.

She should have known better. Perhaps men simply did not know how.

When she caught her breath and her senses, she went to tug her nightgown back down her legs. Heart hardened and sour. “Thank you,” she began stiffly, trying to show gratitude for an orgasm that came much too quick to truly satisfy her body and not at all her heart and her mind. “I ought to get back—”

His hand clamped tightly around her wrist, drawing her back to the bars, and he rose slowly to his feet, a display of both menace and power, and he couldn’t have looked more seductive if he had tried. His fully erect cock grazing her body as he stood. And Anna felt very much as if she’d been caught in a clever trap. A fly in a web she hadn’t seen until it was too late. Her pulse sped up, electricity and desire in her veins.

“It’s an awfully disorienting thing, isn’t it?” He smiled, towering over her, his grip tight on her wrist to the point of pain. “Coming when you aren’t quite ready to. _Prematurely_ , even.”

She frowned at his choice of words, shooting him a suspicious look. “You—”

“—Did it on purpose?” His tongue flicked over his lips slow and deliberate, tracing his grin, as he leaned in closer to her. His breath warm against her earlobe. “Yes.” He chuckled low in his throat, the sound making every nerve in her body tingle, sowing lust. “Oh Anna, you didn’t really think I’d be done with you that quickly now, did you?”

“Hans, I—” she tried to tug her hand away, but he held her fast.

“You ordered me to pleasure you. To satisfy. To make you come.” His free hand drifted flat and open over her buttocks and she drew in a sharp breath as his caress dipped between her thighs, back to her cunt, stroking her from behind, forcing her body tight up against the bars and into his embrace. “And I can’t abide knowing that all this time, while you were getting me off gloriously, you were going neglected. Unsatisfied. My lady has tasked me with her pleasure, and make no mistake, I will grant her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.”

“It’s not a score card,” she gasped, realizing that in one night he intended to match every orgasm she’d given him. Starting with his embarrassing premature ejaculation. Her mind raced back to a year ago when she’d trained him from that. The hair ribbon, the book…surely, he wasn’t—

“It’s too dark to read,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken and as though he’d read her mind, “but I know you know the best parts by heart. Recite them to me, and if you forget, make something up.” His smile widened, and Anna could see he was enjoying this immensely. “And eyes on me, my lady. You are not to come until I say so.”

“All of them in one go, it’ll be too much—”

“You know the word…if you need it.” He let go of her wrist, his hand trailing softly along her jaw. “But don’t act like you haven’t trained me for this, Anna. I know you, and you want this.”

“I do,” she answered, ready to give herself up to his touch. Ready to relinquish her pleasure to his capable hands. She’d never been more ready in her life for him. She had given the order and he was following it through until she’d say when. Until it was enough.

She was still in control.

That tumultuous feeling was back in the pit of her stomach. Standing on the edge of uncertainty and willfully taking the plunge, the risk. Knowing he’d be there waiting. In that single moment, she’d never felt more sure or true. Most like herself.

_This is who you are_.

Confidence returned, she began to recite her favourite book, skipping straight to the naughty bits and meeting her lover’s gaze while he teased her intimately with his fingers. He built up her climax, only to pull away when she was close to peaking, stopping, letting her come back down before starting up again.

It was delicious. A sweetly painful torture as she began to crest a second time, only to have him stop abruptly. Only to have him snatch bliss right out from under her nose.

Was this what it had felt like when she’d done it to him? Maddening and addictive?

She leaned her weight into the bars, her voice trembling as she continued to quote her book as best as she could remember until his hands were back on her. Only this time, working her nightgown up over her head so she stood completely naked before him. A blank canvas ready to become whatever he chose to make of her.

“How are you doing, my love?” he murmured when he’d denied her a third time.

His touch had now become exquisite torture, each brush of skin worth it and not nearly enough. Feeling as though she was going mad, she groaned. Her senses heightened and agitated, and if she could just reach down between her legs and do it herself like she had always done—

“I want to come,” she answered him automatically, a hint of brat shining through, a bit of a diva, and it felt good to just say what she wanted for herself without pretenses and pussy footing.

She wasn’t used to waiting and this irritability was so close to the same feelings she had with Kristoff—though Hans was wielding it on purpose, not fumbling around and missing the mark because he lacked the ability to read her. To pick up on her visual and verbal cues. To pay attention to the details. That was the difference there, but she couldn’t help but utter, “It feels like with him.”

Hans chortled. “Not for long. Trust me, you need it this way. Besides, I already gave you the courtesy of taking the edge off before we really got started.”

Her cheeks flushed as he alluded to her lightning quick climax. She still couldn’t believe he’d done that to her. And he was such a liar. It hadn’t taken the edge off at all, but rather had ignited her desire instead, making her want more, and demand she be thoroughly quenched. He’d proven he had the skills to give her what she wanted, and had given her a small taste, a sampling of what he had in store for her.

She growled in irritation as he stopped the fourth orgasm.

He clicked his tongue softly. “So impatient, and so wet. Does my lady want a finger, or should I continue to play outside next time?”

“Both,” she moaned, delighted he’d given her options. If memory served her right, she’d granted him release after four denied orgasms, meaning this next one was going to be the big one. Her long-awaited salvation at hand.

“Recite for me.”

She stumbled through the memory of the book, trying her best to remember the words, finally just giving up and improvising, drawing on what she wanted from him as inspiration for the filthiest descriptions to come forth.

Jesus, she’d never wanted to come so badly in her life, and if he kept her talking, she was afraid she might just come without him laying a hand on her.

“ _Stop_ ,” he groaned finally, his voice breathy and hoarse.

“Are you going to spend?” she teased, kind of hoping he would. She’d aroused herself beyond measure, surely her words had the same effect on him.

“It doesn’t matter if I do. Tonight isn’t about me. I told you, my pleasure is your pleasure.”

“Then grant us both our pleasure already.”

“As my lady commands.” He slipped his finger inside her, and she moaned, her eyelids flittering shut, savouring the feeling of having something inside her as he manipulated her clit and pussy lips, playing her to perfection, hitting all the right notes. “Am I better than him?”

Her eyes shot open. “Hans—”

“Tell me, let me hear it.”

Her face flushed crimson. Such a betrayal to Kristoff to say such a thing, even if it was the truth. Even if she had already said she’d never climaxed with him. It was going too far. “It doesn’t matter—”

“—Say it nonetheless,” he coaxed, slipping a second finger inside her, making her gasp. “I want to hear it.”

“Yes!” she cried, surprised how quickly she could admit it aloud and succumb to his demands. The pleasure of two fingers filling her tipped her further over the edge. “Yes, you’re better! … _Oh!_ ” Her eyes widened as wave after wave of pleasure mounted, her climax nearly there, built up so high that she had to rely on him and the bars to support her weight, unable to focus on anything but her throbbing cunt and the way he kept her balanced between tease and release.

Her whole body shook as white-hot flame shot through her. She’d never felt anything near _this_. She was so close, so close now. _Dear God_ … She was going to beg him.

“Prove it,” he whispered, and she could see her future in those peridot eyes. “Prove I’m better than him and come. Right here, right now, in my arms.”

_Where you belong_.

She screamed her release, her cries echoing off the ceiling. Her hands clinging to his shoulders, sure she was drawing blood with her nails digging into his flesh. She came hard, staring him right in the eye, and she knew now why it was sometimes called ‘the little death’.

In the wake of her climax, she could do nothing but take it all and ride it, ride it for all she was worth until she was a trembling, exhausted mess, limp in his arms.

“There now,” he soothed when her heartbeat began to slow and she drifted back down from acute ecstasy. “That’s exactly what you needed, wasn’t it?”

Breathless and dizzy, her voice failing her, she could barely nod yes.


	25. Chapter 25

He held her as best as he could with the cell bars between them, pleased he’d satisfied her in his first real effort to pleasure her physically, and pleased he had accomplished what her husband could not. He’d been so pleased in fact, that he had gone ahead and tossed himself while she came screaming at the top of her lungs all thanks to him. He hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d been such a good boy getting her off like that and could afford to let himself go.

She was still so dazed in his arms that he wondered if she even realized her belly was wet with his release yet. It didn’t matter, not in the slightest. She wasn’t here for what she could do for him, but rather, for what he could do for her.

And it was a lot, actually.

It didn’t matter how many times he came, or if he did at all again tonight. That wasn’t the goal, wasn’t the objective. This wasn’t about him, and for the first time in his life, he was consciously acting for the benefit of someone else, regardless of being rewarded or getting off.

He’d made an active choice. He was putting Anna’s needs above his own, and it was exhilarating. For so long, he’d lived his life solely for himself, selfish and self-centered, never really considering another person.

Anna had been slowly changing that. For the past year now, she’d been altering his perceptions, encouraging him to think differently, to think outside his own desires. To think of hers.

He’d fallen into the role of her submissive out of his own desires and needs, and now it was time he return the favour and give back to Anna. She had given so much to him, and came to him in her time of need. So, he would look after her.

What she needed most was for him to fulfill his role.

And he was more than ready to do that.

He knew he could do that. He could be exactly what she needed.

It wasn’t about proving his love. He didn’t need to prove anything with Anna. Instead, he was simply showing his love. Doing his best for her because he wanted to. Because he loved her.

He didn’t need to be anything more than what he was.

And it felt good to be enough. To be able to be there when she needed him most of all, and come through for her.

She had told him that they weren’t keeping score, but Hans understood resentment all too well, and Anna was most certainly resentful. Maybe not of him, but of her husband, and Hans had no intention of placing himself in the same boat as the man who couldn’t get his wife off.

How many times had he just assumed that when Anna left him after granting him mind-blowing sex that she was being satisfied elsewhere?

It was a punch to the gut learning that all this time her needs were not being met, yet she had never once pushed the boundaries and allowed him to satisfy her the way she satisfied him. The truth gnawed at him, and he’d known without a shadow of a doubt how to act this time, and what he should do.

Anna deserved to be satisfied. She deserved the best efforts known to man. The woman was the embodiment of sex, and it baffled Hans to no end how any man could not cave to her desires and follow where she would lead. Her appetite for carnal pleasure knew no bounds. She was adventurous and genuine. She was creative. She didn’t judge. If he were the husband, he’d be jumping through hoops, rings of fire, to please her…and probably just to keep up with her. Delighting in every minute and never getting enough.

How could any man mean to keep her proper behind closed doors? It was absurd. She’d been born with the wrong temperament for high society, and needed this relationship as an outlet so that she could function, maintaining two separate lives. He could see that now. Anna was just as trapped as he was, maybe more so…yes, definitely more so.

Anna would never be meek and strait-laced. And he felt for her, he really did. Society would never accept her if they knew what she had gotten up to with him, or that it had been her idea. Scandal was always waiting around the corner for her, and Hans was lucky she’d chosen him for it.

It had only been a matter of time before their affair had escalated to this point. Where Anna would abandon all of her carefully placed rules, all of her morals and excuses, and succumb to him the way he had succumbed to her. It was thrilling to know she needed him just as much as he needed her, and comforting at the exact same time. Just knowing that they were on the same level and felt the same had his heart soaring. That their roles were of equal importance. Two sides of the same coin.

It had nearly all come undone, and he’d had to calm down and focus, remember who he was to Anna, and remember who he was when he was with Anna.

Who he was _because_ of Anna.

He’d almost slipped into old patterns, almost disobeyed. Almost forgot he was well mannered, and docile, and that it was not his place to take control, even when her authority was up for grabs, however tempting it had been. A pet didn’t wait in the wings for opportunities to steal. A pet was loyal to their master and stayed by their side, especially in times of turmoil. A pet protected its home.

A pet gave what was needed.

And Hans would give it all. He’d be everything Anna needed and asked for. He’d only had to remind her of that and she had let down her guard with him. Opened herself up and let him in.

She had let _him_ take care of _her_.

When his master was weak, he would be strong.

And right now, Anna was in a very fragile state. Her life outside of him was falling apart, so it was up to him to keep their bond resilient to whatever it was she was dealing with. It was up to him to give Anna the strength and the courage to keep up whatever pretenses she was carrying outside of her dungeon life. Hans couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult all the pretending was for her. All the secrets.

One mistake, one misstep and it could all be over for her. For them. Anna needed to know that she had him. That no matter what, Hans was her pet. That Hans could reciprocate and would without question.

He was a good, obedient boy. The best pet. Anna had made sure of that. And as long as he was Anna’s, he could be whatever it was she needed him to be.

Even if it meant giving her enough of him that she could go back into the arms of another man and keep pretending her life was something it wasn’t. _At least for another three years_ , he reminded himself. Frustrated that he couldn’t just take her away with him to parts unknown and be done with this whole silly farce of a life she was living. It was a much easier thing to imagine than to actually do though.

Even he knew that.

Until the time came where Hans could actively intervene in Anna’s life, he needed to maintain his passive role, supporting Anna in whatever ways he could. It was a difficult task, but one he would perform without question.

He brushed away thoughts of melancholy and concern, remembering why she had come to him and what he had promised.

“Do you remember the third time?” he asked after giving her a sufficient amount of time to recover. He wanted her to be able to experience it all tonight. Each orgasm unique and on its own, putting her in every single moment, starting as fresh as possible.

If this was all he could do for her right now, then he’d do it as best as he damn well could.

“Yes,” she said, looking up at him. “How could I forget? You made it to twenty-five. You were such a good counter.”

“But do you remember how you—”

“Made you come? Yes.” Her blue eyes sparked with mischief and he could see a sliver of his Anna shining through. “You have my permission to try that with me.”

He felt his cheeks grow hot, suddenly feeling less seductive than when he’d started. It was Anna coming back into her authority, he realized. “I thought I ought to ask first.”

“If I don’t like it, I know the word, and I know you’ll follow orders.” She paused. “I trust you, pet.”

Calling him ‘pet’ in that haughty tone had him grinning like an idiot, and he fought the urge to maneuver his head into the palm of her hand for a quick nuzzle. There wasn’t time for that, and this wasn’t about him.

He didn’t have Anna’s trusty little vial of oil, but that would not be a problem considering how she was practically dripping for him after her last climax. He did his best to ignore the tiny thrum of heat stirring his own desire, excited that she was allowing him to go so far with her.

How often had he envisioned this? Fantasized about pleasuring her? Lying alone at night on his cot, cock out and training himself to abstain, to hold off until torture became bliss in the form of her praise? God, he’d spent so many nights conjuring up the most illicit things he could imagine doing to her, and having her scream his name in adulation with each one.

And now that he was finally getting the opportunity to put the fantasy into practice, it was very different.

He often envisioned how slowly he’d go, how gentle, how careful, only to switch things up in a moment’s notice and fuck her the way a woman like Anna would appreciate. He’d nip, he’d bite, he’d pull her hair, utter filthy things in her ear all while ramming into her as hard as she could take him. He wanted more than anything to leave his mark on her, not just her body, nor her mind, but her _soul_.

He wanted her to feel the way he did when he was with her.

Such pure devotion could only be achieved through pleasure. Through pain. Through their bond.

And he was nervous.

Above all else, he wanted his mistress pleased. Anna’s satisfaction was priority, but even knowing that it was about Anna, he still knew how rewarding the praise would be.

Anna being proud of him, impressed with him, _pleased_ with him was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

And he wanted it. Badly.

He had to step back and take a moment, stressing again to himself that this wasn’t about _him_. It was about her, and he was dipping into selfishness despite his best efforts. How was he supposed to keep this up knowing that with each climax he gave, he was still taking something from her?

“Hans,” she said softly, “breathe. You’re allowed to enjoy it too.”

He blanched. Again, wondering if she could read minds. “My pleasure is your pleasure,” he whispered with a shaky breath, and she smiled.

“You get off on my pleasure, my praise. You have for awhile now.” She made a point to look directly in his eyes. “And it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

He stared at her, swallowing hard. Was it that obvious? He’d never really thought about it so bluntly before. But she wasn’t wrong. Not in the slightest. Being praised by her aroused him. It always had.

“A little compliment here, and bit of acknowledgment there and your cock practically jumps to attention. You love it.” Her tongue slipped across her lips in a quick lick. “I just screamed your praises—in so many words—and you came all over me. I didn’t even have to physically touch you.”

So she had noticed.

“I wanted this to be about you,” he admitted, feeling somewhat like a failure. “I’m not doing it for me, I’m not—”

“This is about me, I’m the focus, but this is also sex. It’s give and take.”

“But when you’d do it to me—”

“I’d go up to my room and frig myself silly.” She laughed, and he was certain his ears had gone red now. “You’re allowed to feel good when you’re pleasuring me. We’re doing this together. It’s not being selfish, it’s…” she bit her lip thoughtfully, “…it’s being a couple.”

It was exactly the right thing to say at exactly the right time, and Hans, unable to stand it any longer, dropped to his knees and yanked her pelvis hard against the bars, immediately nuzzling his nose into her triangular little nest of damp curls.

“Hans!” she gasped in surprise, her voice higher than usual and he couldn’t help but smirk. Bet she’d never had a man’s face there before. The scent of her arousal intoxicating as he breathed deeply. She _had_ told him to breathe, after all. Tangy and sensual, sweetly musky, she stirred his senses to dizzying heights. Anna was banquet he couldn’t wait to sample.

“I can’t get to you as well as I’d like with these bars in the way, but I’m damn well going to try.” He nudged her legs apart and she obliged rather quickly, her breathing much heavier in a few short minutes.

“I’ve only ever read about this,” she murmured.

“And someday, I’ll give you the full experience, but for now, a little taste.” He wedged his face between the bars, darting his tongue out and diving for her pearl. She squealed in delight when he hit his target and flicked his tongue over the hardened bead with relish. His semi-aroused cock pulsed in response to her squeals and her hands suddenly grabbing fistfuls of his hair. She was rough and demanding—just the way he liked it.

His master.

There was his wild lady, the Anna he knew and adored, coaxed back out with the flick of his tongue. Gone was that agitated and helpless girl who had arrived, shaky and hesitant.

She kept her hips pressed firmly against the bars, her legs trembling trying to stay still when he was certain all she wanted to do was writhe for him, only doing so would break their limited contact, and for the millionth time tonight, he cursed the damn cell bars. He couldn’t get his face nearly close enough to really show her the delights of oral sex, but he could lap at her clit and breathe in the scent of her sex, spurring his prick to stand firmly at attention.

He hated knowing he wouldn’t take her fully tonight. Not with the cell bars impeding their lovemaking. Not like that. The first time he slipped into her, he wanted it to be special and perfect. Not from behind and slamming into iron first instead of flesh.

She moaned long and low when he slid his fingers along her slit, coating them diligently in her juices and slicking them up for penetration. She spread her legs wider for him, her moans hurried and whimpering as he continued to lick her clit while edging a wet finger back to her puckered hole, remembering how she’d done it to him, teasing and light, slow.

“Yes,” she sighed as he tentatively pressed the tip of his finger against her backdoor opening. Her hips rocked backwards to meet his finger, forcing him to stretch his tongue out to catch her clit on his tip. He growled in frustration and jerked her back to the bars, eliciting a giggle when she was slammed roughly into the iron. “So impatient.”

He could have told her that she was one to talk the way she kept squirming, but his mouth was currently preoccupied. Anna was quite a bit more ready for his finger in forbidden places than he had been for hers. She sighed deeply, almost a satisfied purr as he worked his pinky into her, her hips moving to a steady rhythm that made licking her all the more difficult.

_God_ , what he wouldn’t give to have her straddling his face right now. That would really be the optimal position, giving him the best access for both worlds, but Anna wasn’t complaining even though the bars had made deep indents on her skin. He almost broke out into a laugh, briefly wondering what his face would look like when she finished and he’d pull himself out from being wedged between the bars.

“Harder,” she urged and he delighted in just how primal she sounded, her voice smoky and thick. Commanding. A woman in charge of her pleasure through her lover. He obeyed and she took it all from him, riding euphoria, her body quaking, struggling to stay still for him as she came again in his arms.

He didn’t pull his face away immediately when she had finished, needing to catch his own breath. He stayed on his knees, her servant, her pet, and her hand combed absently through his hair, sending shivers up his spine and straight down to his aching cock.

“That was amazing,” she sighed, her voice light and airy. If she sounded like that after sex every single time…

“I love you,” he blurted out before he could think better of such an admission said aloud. He felt her body tense at his words, and cringed when his declaration was met with silence. Unending silence.

_Isn’t this the part where she’s supposed to say it back?_ he thought, panicking. But she said nothing. She seemed to have stopped breathing. Her body so still, he shot a cautious glance up to her face and finding it unreadable.

It couldn’t have been any more than a minute or two, but to Hans it was nearly unbearable. He fumbled, grasping at anything he could think of to break the silence. “I mean…what I just—”

“Stand up,” she whispered.

And he moved on instinct at her orders, all the while dreading what he’d see in her eyes once he stood to meet her. Her hand reached out to cup his jaw, soft and gentle and something akin to affection she did often with him, her eyes studying him intently.

He gulped, nervous under her gaze. How could he have said something so stupid, so ill advised out loud to her like that? She wasn’t his in that way, even if they both wanted it. She was spoken for, married, never mind that she was the Crown Princess while he wasn’t even sure his title as meager thirteenth prince still stood. He’d never have less of a claim on her as he did.

“The last time I stood naked before the bars for you, I had never intended to call you to me,” she admitted, her voice a caress as soft as her fingers grazing his jaw. “But I wanted you that day. I wanted you in a way I’ve never wanted anyone. I surprised and scared myself.”

“I wanted to kiss you,” he confessed. “So badly. I regret that I didn’t.”

Her smile was demure and shy. “And for one brief, maybe foolish, moment in time, I wanted you in me.”

“Anna,” he began earnestly, “I’d make love to you properly here and now if it weren’t for these damned bars.”

“I know.” She sighed wistfully. “I think I’d let you too.”

It was the sigh that plucked at his heartstrings. If only things had been different. He’d made so many stupid mistakes in the past and he wondered just how different things would have been if he’d been the person he was now back then when they had first met. He bit his lip, the past was the past, nothing to be done for that now, but the future was something entirely different. _That_ , he could change.

“I’ve no right to ask this of you, but I’m going to anyway,” he started slowly, needing to ask her now more than ever, regardless of the inevitable rejection.

She didn’t love her husband, and she wasn’t happy, but with him, she could be. They stood a chance to make this relationship into something that could last a lifetime. Hans could be the right man for her. He knew he could be. She wouldn’t have to lead a dual life with him. He didn’t want her to be anything than what she already was.

“Will you wait for me? I’ll have served my sentence in almost three years. I’ll be a free man. I…I could take you with me—”

She smiled sadly, touched by his offer. “I could never abandon Arendelle, or my sister, you know that. You understand royal duties and commitments, loyalties, the burden of responsibilities…”

He nodded, backing off, giving her some space. He ignored the jab of pain her answer had caused and the thickness that followed in his throat. He’d known it was a long shot, still it was better to be honest and have asked it anyway.

He was already ruined, to ask her to risk it for him was ludicrous and selfish, but Hans had no pride when it came to her. “The offer will always stand.”

The dim sound of the market square clock chimed, marking the hour. An escape she needed from a topic she didn’t wish to delve into, and one he wouldn’t press. She shrugged out of his embrace, and he let her, watching quietly as she began to slip back into her nightgown. “The sun will be up soon, I’d better go.”

Her hands trembled as she tried to fasten the buttons up her back.

“Here, my lady,” he offered, “let me.”

She turned around for him, and he leaned through the gap in the bars to place a small kiss on the nape of her neck, followed by another and another, one with each button he fastened. A physical promise to her that he was not hurt or upset at her refusal of his offer. He’d give her time. A lot could change in three years, for good or for bad. Best to live in the present.

“Hans…” She hesitated, her voice quiet, but every bit as confident as he knew his Anna could be. “I do love you. I wouldn’t have come here tonight if I didn’t.”

“Well, now I hate these bars even more,” he answered, mentally kicking himself for giving such dopey response.

She giggled at that, spinning round before he could finish the last button and say something sentimental. She leaned in on her tippy toes, kissing him gently one last time, her lips lingering. “Next time we meet, I’m having you on the table again and I’ll claim you properly, pet.”

He gave her a short bow, trying to hide how excited that made him. “Until we meet again then, my lady.”

***

Anna grinned as she hurried up the long flight of dungeon stairs to the main floor. She had done the right thing, coming to see Hans before she left had been the—

_—Oh shit_.

In the midst of her emotional turmoil, she had forgotten to tell Hans the whole of everything, how she was supposed to spend her time both at the palace and at the mountains. One evening with Hans and she had forgotten all her worries. Forgotten that she had wanted to tell him she’d be gone from the palace.

But Hans had been perfect. Exactly what she had needed. He’d effectively eased her panic alongside her frustrations. He’d set everything right again, giving her the will to carry on.

A dreamy sigh drifted from her lips. It had been wonderful; _he_ had been wonderful.

_He loves me_.

She didn’t need to worry about Hans, she realized. Hans was secure in his devotion, in his love. He’d wait for her, knowing that she would come whenever she could. Perhaps she could convince Kristoff to bring her back within the month.

There was no need to raise further suspicion and feed the guards more dubious excuses than she already had for one night. She was still amazed she had been able to see Hans in the state she was in to begin with. How on earth she had convinced the guards so easily in the first place was a mystery for another day. There was no need to tempt fate and push her luck by going back.

Everything would be okay. Somehow everything would work itself out in the end. It was such a relief to know that as long as she had Hans, she could do this. She could be what everyone wanted. She could make everyone happy, including herself. He had a way of keeping her steady, balancing everything out and keeping her on track. Things would be different now.

In three years, she might very well be in a place where she was ready to leave Arendelle, but to give such a promise, and so early, would be foolish. A rash decision she could not guarantee.

_The offer will always stand._

Hans would wait, a reassurance that she hadn’t known she needed until he had given it. He hadn’t been angry or rejected by her refusal, and she appreciated that more than words could say. Hans understood her better than anyone else ever would. He would put the offer out there and leave it, not pressuring her, not pleading his case to change her mind. Hans had let her remain in control, respecting the decisions she made for herself.

Smiling, she hurried out of the dungeons and into the darkened palace, slipping quietly back towards the royal living quarters. Unaware that from the shadows, a familiar face stood watching her in secret, in silence. When she was up the stairs and out of sight, they made their way into the dungeons.


	26. Chapter 26

When the door to his cell creaked open yet again, he grinned. She hadn’t even been gone from him for more than a few minutes and back again. He’d only just cleaned himself up and shrugged back into his nightshirt.

Her tiny shoes barely made a sound on the floor before he teased, “Back for more already, _my lady_?”

“Hardly.”

His blood ran cold at the sound of a familiar but unfamiliar voice.

This was not Anna, and he silently kicked himself for being so stupid. For getting cocky and speaking out of turn. For Anna getting slack on her rules, allowing him to think he could. For not recognizing sooner that Anna had been barefoot, his new visitor, not.

He’d screwed up, partially giving away more information than he should have regarding himself and Anna, and that it was imperative he rectify the error. He sat up straight, refusing to meet her at the bars unless they made him.

Not that it would matter. What Queen Elsa wanted she would get. He was powerless against such a force. Never mind that she was an ice witch. And as light spilled into the room, he saw that she was not alone. Flanked by two guards and more waiting at the doorway, Hans knew he was in serious trouble. Only a grave offense warranted this number of guards and a visit from the queen herself.

They’d been caught.

There was no doubt that Queen Elsa knew about him and Anna. So soon an arrival after Anna had just left had practically assured it.

He swore under his breath. They had always run the risk of being discovered. Especially after so frequent the visits, the collar, the birthday…tonight… He’d been foolish to think that it wouldn’t have all come together sooner or later. A fool in love to believe they could carry on for this length of time without detection. But he’d always expected it to be the husband who would find out, and not the sister.

“I never liked you,” Elsa said crisply, stopping in front of his cell and casting her disdainful gaze on him.

That was fair. He _had_ tried to kill her—

“From the moment she introduced me to you, I knew you were trouble, and I knew I didn’t like you. The last thing I wanted was for you to remain in Arendelle. Anna could never help herself, really, around you. Despite my advice, my wishes, my warnings, it seems she cannot seem to break whatever spell you’ve got her under on her own.”

“Your Majesty—” Hans began carefully, knowing his words would be crucial to alleviating whatever trouble he had gotten Anna into with her sister, with her family. It was necessary he take all the blame if he had to, he couldn’t risk Anna any punishment.

“Silence!” Elsa bellowed and her quick rage made him snap his jaw shut.

He was seeing quite quickly that there would be no talking his way out of whatever Queen Elsa had planned for him, and his concern for Anna grew all the fiercer. This was not the same fragile woman he had dealt with almost two years ago, and he frantically wracked his brain for a weak spot, something he could exploit, panicking when he wasn’t finding something right away.

“You have been a thorn in my side the moment you laid eyes on her. I know what you are, even if she doesn’t. Whatever you’ve said to her, poisoned her mind with, I assure you, it stops tonight.” She motioned for a guard to unlock his cell. “I will not let you ruin her again.”

The guard shoved a key into the lock and with a grinding screech of metal, his cell door was opened wide.

“On your feet,” the guard demanded, and Hans could do nothing but obey. Whatever would happen was out of his hands now, and if it were the noose, well, he’d certainly done worse than dally with a married princess for that. Elsa certainly looked angry enough to call for his death, and she certainly had the power to do so…though he hoped the political ramifications of such an act would steady her hand and make her see reason, though Elsa never seemed to reasonable when Anna was involved.

He was shackled from behind, the guard rougher than usual as he nudged Hans to the open cell door to face Queen Elsa’s punishment.

“I consider myself a fair and just ruler, so I am giving you an opportunity to redeem yourself. Tell me truthfully every interaction you’ve had with Anna, and in exchange I promise leniency.”

“There is nothing to tell.”

Elsa’s expression darkened. “I know she’s been coming to see you regularly, do not play me for a fool. I know she was here tonight. The guards have confirmed this.”

“Princess Anna sees to my punishment,” Hans answered blandly, trying his best to look bored. “I don’t know what else you want me to say, because there isn’t anything more. And since nobody else was present, I’m afraid it’s my word that confirms it.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her tone was just as blasé as his. She gave a tight smile. “Fine.”

Her answer made him instantly ill at ease. She was giving up far too easily for his liking, and try as he might to read her reactions, he was having a difficult time getting past her cool demeanor. Whatever he had said had somehow given her the upper hand, and he hated that he was going in blind and the underdog.

“Prince Hans of the Southern Isles,” she spoke stiffly, her eyes as hard and as cold as the magic ice he’d once seen her wield. “The past two years of imprisonment in Arendelle have shown you to be a model prisoner. _Especially_ this past year. You are described by the guards as subdued and compliant, penitent even. In light of what the crown sees as your good behaviour, the Kingdom of Arendelle releases you of your five-year sentence early. You are to be sent back to your homeland effective immediately. However, this is only on the condition that you will never set foot on Arendelle soil or sail Arendelle’s waters ever again. To do so, will be upon your death. Is that clear?”

“Then I don’t want an early release,” Hans stated firmly. “I’ll serve out the rest of my sentence here.”

Elsa’s smile broadened, something almost cruel hiding beneath it. “You seem to be mistaken, you are not being given a choice in this matter.”

He stared at her, shocked, schooling his expression quickly to calm reserve. So that was her game. Cut him off from Anna as quickly as possible and cauterize the wound before it infected. Elsa was shrewder than he’d ever given her credit for.

She had effectively banished him, separated him from Anna, all while coming off as the wise and benevolent ruler. She could sweep the scandal under the rug and keep Anna safe this way, using the ‘model prisoner’ excuse to get him gone from her sight and from Anna’s arms once and for all.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he answered the words like ash on his tongue, hating that he’d been left with no choice.

“You will never see her again,” she hissed venomously, then pleasantly to the guards, “Gather his belongings, and take him to the docks. His ship awaits. I want him gone tonight or the consequences will be dire. By the time the sun rises on Arendelle, Prince Hans will be well out of our sight and nothing but an unhappy memory.”

It was then that he knew for sure, knew _exactly_ what Elsa had done. Found her mistake and his advantage. He kept his expression stoic. “She has no idea, does she?”

Elsa only scowled at him, and it confirmed everything. Anna didn’t know they’d been caught, didn’t know any of this was going on right now, and Elsa…well, Elsa didn’t know exactly what Hans was to Anna.

There was going to be hell to pay when Anna found out.

***

It had taken little time to usher Hans from the dungeons and down to the docks. He’d been shoved into a waiting wagon, his fate sealed within mere minutes. Elsa was nothing if not efficient and he cursed quietly to himself. There was no way for Anna to intervene until she found out, and by then, the damage would already be done. Hans would be gone. Never able to return.

As much as he had dreamt of being free of the Arendelle dungeons, he did not want it like this. He was escorted rather roughly from the wagon to the docks, where a ship returning to the Southern Isles would take him home. He was to be put in the brig until out of Arendelle’s waters.

If he even so much as attempted to go back to Arendelle, his life was forfeit. He didn’t doubt for a single second that Elsa would have border patrols keeping a watchful eye for his person. She’d made it perfectly clear that she was looking out for Anna’s best interests, and that he was a definite threat to said interests.

He wasn’t convinced he’d be able to write Anna without his letters being intercepted and burned before they’d reach her. Elsa was not fooling around, and it would reflect poorly on Hans to underestimate the might of Arendelle’s queen. He’d have to rely on Anna. Everything was now up to Anna, and he would have to have faith in her if he ever wished to see her again.

He was certain he would. He kept that thought firm and forefront. Anna loved him, even if she had been slower to say it back. She’d be furious come morning when she learned what Elsa had done and that he was gone.

He hated not getting to say good-bye to her, not getting to see her just one last time. He’d not wanted it to end like this, abrupt and unfinished, and he could only hope that Anna would come for him. He’d have to trust that Anna would find her stolen pet, no matter the cost. He’d wait for her in the Southern Isles, knowing that was where it was easiest for her to find him.

“Shame we won’t be seeing our princess in the dungeons again,” his guard said aloud, and to nobody in particular. Surely the man wasn’t talking directly to him. That would be absurd.

He didn’t answer.

“You know,” the guard continued, as they waited to board the ship. “I’d been a guard for nearly thirty years before ever setting sights on _anyone_ in the royal family. Every day of my service, been in the palace, and not once met royalty until Princess Anna herself waltzed into the dungeons.”

Hans remained silent.

“Nice enough gal too, made you feel special, important. Took an interest, she did. Never acted like we were beneath her. Made us all feel appreciated for our work down there. Her visits were the bright spots in our day, she was—”

“Like the sun itself.”

The man cocked his head, eyeing Hans before he nodded stiffly. He was quiet for serval minutes before he spoke up again. “We all knew you two were in an entanglement. Anyone with half a brain could see it. Of course, we all had our speculations, ideas about what the nature of it was—” he raised his hands defensively, “—and I don’t need to be hearing what really went on. That wasn’t an invitation. None of our business, if you ask me. Don’t need no information on those sorts of things, best to play dumb and know nothing at all.”

Hans merely nodded. No way he was confirming or denying anything.

“None of us mentioned any of that to the Queen either, I’ll have you know. Our princess…well, she doesn’t deserve that. Some things are nobody’s business. Even the Crown’s.” The man blew out a long breath. “It ain’t right sending you off in the night without her getting to say good-bye properly. Doesn’t sit well at all.”

“Yeah, well…it’s out of our hands, isn’t it? Orders are orders,” Hans answered carefully.

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “I…I really shouldn’t offer, but…you want me to…uh…pass along a message? Can’t bear to think of the tears come morning light.”

“Actually…” Hans hesitated, it was worth a shot, and as of right now his options to get word to Anna were limited. “Do you think you can cut a lock of my hair for her?”

The man raised his eyebrows. “A love token, eh?” He gave a low whistle. “That serious then?”

“Will you do it?”

The guard shrugged, and took out his dagger. He grabbed a bit of Hans’s hair and cut a lock away. He then fished a bit of loose thread from his sleeve, wrapping it around the lock of hair before tucking the tiny bundle into his pocket. “You want I should say anything?”

“Tell her, _‘I’ll wait’_.”

A sailor from the ship interrupted, hailing the guard. “We’re ready for him, bring him aboard.”

The guard, nodded, signalling two guards to escort him up the gangplank, but before Hans was taken away, the guard spoke lowly for his ears only. “I’ll see she gets your message. You have my word.”

“Thank you,” Hans answered, hating that he was relying on a stranger who was under the Queen’s employ, but wanting desperately for Anna to have some token of his love, and confirm that this didn’t change anything. He was still hers even if he was across the sea.

***

Anna woke up late that morning and started her day thinking nothing was amiss and that everything was right with the world.

That was until she stepped out into the hallway to a flurry of gossip and excitement. The corridors of the palace were abuzz with the news. Everyone was talking about it.

Their beloved and benevolent Queen Elsa had shown unprecedented mercy and compassion last night and had released Prince Hans back to the custody of his homeland. The Queen had wasted no time seeing her will done and Prince Hans was no longer in Arendelle. His ship for the Southern Isles had sailed at first light. _No doubt_ , the servants said, _a mark of the Queen’s humility, having no wish to bask in the attention of her act of goodwill_. Such modesty and decorum. The epitome of forgiveness and sainthood. No one expected any less from their Queen Elsa.

Anna felt ill.

Surely there had been a mistake. Elsa wouldn’t have.

She _wouldn’t_.

But as Anna quickly made her way to the dungeons, her fears mounted and her heart dropped straight into her stomach. She didn’t recognize _any_ of these guards. Where were all the familiar faces?

“I’m sorry, Princess, but you are not allowed down there,” the unfamiliar guard at the entrance said. “It’s no place for a lady.”

“I am the Crown Princess,” she snapped, unable to believe what she was being told. “I outrank you, and demand you let me pass.” Never had she ever used her rank with such authority or disdain for the palace staff, but she could no longer entertain good manners. Not until she saw Hans’s cell for herself.

The man looked startled, and backed away slowly, letting Anna by. She practically ran down the steps, following the familiar path to Hans’s cell, each guard a different man than the ones she knew. Each guard a man she had to flaunt her status in front of to get to Hans’s cell only to find it empty and scrubbed clean.

_No_.

She stifled a sob. The floor feeling as though it was giving way beneath her. She leaned against the stone wall to steady herself.

Hans was gone. _Gone_.

“My lady?” the guard escorting her asked in concern when her balance wavered. She had nearly forgotten he was there. The man hovered by her side.

_My lady_.

“It’s _Princess Anna_ ,” she said stiffly, straightening her back. “I’ll thank you to address me formally.”

“Yes, Princess Anna. Shall I escort you back?”

“No. I wish to see the rest of the cells. Every last one of them.”

The guard looked at her like she was crazy, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. “Of course, Princess Anna.”

The tour of the dungeons ended in dismay. Her worst fear confirmed.

Hans really was gone.

Elsa really had sent him off by cover of darkness as quickly as possible last night. She still couldn’t believe her sister had done such a thing. Not without talking to Anna first about it. Elsa had done it in secret. Elsa had done it _on purpose_.

Anna had never felt more betrayed by her sister. After everything she had gone through. After all her unflinching loyalty and dedication and love to her sister, Elsa had done this to her. Without even asking for an explanation or trying to understand Anna. Where was all the patience and trust that Anna had given her over a lifetime returned to Anna when she needed it from Elsa?

They were sisters. Sisters were supposed to support each other. Supposed to have each other’s backs. Supposed to listen, to trust. To help.

Rage replaced her sorrow and dismay as Anna immediately headed up to her sister’s study to confront Elsa.

Reaching the study, she didn’t even bother to knock as she threw the door open. Elsa looked up from her desk, nonplussed.

“What did you do?” Anna accused on sight.

Elsa gave her a hard stare. “What needed to be done.”

“You didn’t even ask me!” Anna cried. “You could have come to me first!”

“You’ve shown time and again that your good judgement is clouded whenever it comes to him. You willfully acted appallingly. Do you even realize the amount of damage you’ve caused your reputation? Your marriage? Your family name?”

“I love him!” Anna shouted, furious. “He makes me feel normal! He makes it so I’m able to continue this act, this sham of a life—”

“—Well, then I’m sorry to say that he left of his own accord.”

Anna faltered, the words like gunshot. “ _What?_ ”

Elsa looked as calm as ever, sympathetic even. “I offered him a bargain, and he took it. I’m sorry, Anna, but he did not care for you the way you cared for him.”

“What do you mean?” Anna asked carefully, her suspicions rising. “What kind of bargain?”

“It was a test that I did for you. But he failed. In exchange for his freedom, Hans told me everything. It was so easy for him to toss you aside. Really quite upsetting and I am relieved you weren’t there to witness such a thing.” Elsa’s featured softened; the sympathy turned heartbreaking. “Oh, Anna! He was never good for you. Only using you to get a lighter sentence and perks. It was best I sent him away as soon as possible before any of this came out in the open.”

“You’re lying,” Anna said, her hands balling at her sides into fists. Her nails digging into the flesh of her palms until it stung. Hans would never. She knew with all her heart it was a lie. That her own sister was _lying_ to her. She stood firm, finally standing up to Elsa. “He loves me.”

“Does he?” Elsa countered, her expression now going grim. “ _My lady_.”

Anna gasped.

_No_.

Those two words shattered her world and she fled.


	27. Chapter 27

The persistent knocking on her door did not let up. He’d given up multiple times earlier when she hadn’t responded, but now it seemed that Kristoff was not leaving until she opened the door for him.

“Anna?” he called through the door, and she stuffed her head under her pillow to muffle a growl of frustration.

She didn’t want to see him. Facing the man she’d betrayed for the man who’d betrayed her was not exactly on her list of things she was keen to do. Kristoff, though unaware, was an unpleasant reminder of just how badly Anna had screwed up. Just how _wrong_ she had been. She wasn’t sure she could look him in the eye, knowing what a fool she’d been. Knowing what an awful wife she had been…was.

“Honey?” Kristoff called again, his voice so gentle it made fresh tears well up in her eyes.

_Don’t call me that. I’m not at all the woman you think I am_.

“Can you unlock the door, please?”

She scrunched her eyes shut, trying to will it all away so she didn’t have to feel anything anymore. She’d made a mess of everything. Ruined it all, and what was worse, Elsa had been right. Elsa had finally proved once and for all that she _did_ know best. She did know better than Anna. Anna was the screw up. The one at fault. Compared to Elsa, she was just a silly, stupid princess with barely enough common sense to survive.

She shouldn’t, but she hated Elsa for it. Loathed that her sister had been right all along and that she hadn’t taken the good advice she’d been given. She’d deliberately shirked it, believing she had known best.

_Elsa was right and you were wrong_.

She had been rebelling against what she had thought was her sister’s meddling for so long now, sure that what she was doing was the right course of action. Arrogant in her assumptions. Sure that she was acting in her best interests, despite what everyone else thought. Anna had thought she’d known what was best for her, thought she understood her own feelings, thought she knew who she was…who Hans was…

And it was all a lie.

Just like everything else in her life.

_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me_.

It was infuriating knowing that Elsa knew. Knew just how easily Anna had been duped a second time by Hans. How thoroughly she’d been misled. She seethed with an anger fuelled by outrage and humiliation. It was bad enough that Anna had been led astray, but with Elsa knowing the whole of it… _God_. This was the kind of defeat that Anna would have preferred to carry in private. She did not want to share her shame, her guilt, her rage. She did not want unspoken sympathy or a knowing smugness in her sister’s eye. She wanted to bear this burden alone.

She groaned, punching her pillow a few times while wishing she had a normal relationship with her sister. One that would make Elsa knowing feel like a comfort instead of something akin to punishment. Why couldn’t Elsa ever act like a normal, loving sister first and a queen ruling all second?

A sister should have made her feel better, even a little bit. Elsa knowing did not lessen the load, or dull the pain. Instead, it made it worse. It made Anna feel like an idiot. A fool. A child. Demeaned. She’d wanted so badly to prove that she was in control of her own life, that she knew above anyone else what was best for her, and she’d failed miserably at it.

“Please, Anna,” Kristoff said, still knocking. “You’ve been in there all day. Please just open the door.”

There was defeat in his voice, and Anna cringed. Like everything else she had done to him of late, Kristoff didn’t deserve this. She heaved a sigh and threw her legs over the side of her bed, forcing herself to get up and unlock the door. If she owed anyone anything in all of this, it was Kristoff, and even with a broken heart, Anna was not about to shirk her responsibilities. She’d screwed up. It was up to her to take ownership of that, and do something…whether she wanted to or not.

Poor, honourable Kristoff, Elsa’s pawn and Anna’s shackles. All he’d ever tried to do was do right by her. She’d repaid him awfully poorly for that.

The first thing she was met with upon opening the door was a plateful of sloppy sandwiches and some chopped carrots. He’d made her something to eat, and that only made her feel worse.

“I thought you might be hungry…well, you must be hungry, have to be hungry,” he rambled. “You weren’t at breakfast, or lunch…or dinner.” Kristoff presented the dinner plate to her in earnest, and she took the plate, letting him into her room. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of food, though she wished it hadn’t been sandwiches.

“Thank you,” she said, picking up a sandwich and taking a bite.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Elsa said you two had a fight.”

Her body went tense, and she dropped the sandwich back onto the plate. Her appetite gone. Of course, Elsa would have gotten to Kristoff first. God only knew what he’d been told, but as always, it was very likely that Elsa presented herself as the reasonable one, while Anna would be the irrational one, lashing out at her sister for no real reason. Anna studied Kristoff’s face, trying to discern if he’d come on his own or if Elsa had sent him as a mediator for her.

“And what else did she say?” Anna asked cautiously.

He shrugged. “Nothing much, really. Just that you two had an argument.”

“And?”

Kristoff looked at her, confused. “And that’s all, but she seemed really upset over it.”

Anna scoffed. Even when she was right and had gotten what she wanted, Elsa still had to play the wounded party. As if Anna hadn’t been the one to come out of this whole mess worse off.

Kristoff continued, “Look…I don’t understand sibling fights. I grew up with trolls…and believe me, troll disputes are way different, but I know Elsa loves you, and you love her—”

Anna groaned, rolling her eyes. “Did she send you here to advocate for her? Because I’m really not in the mood, Kristoff. Just once, it’d be nice to have you on _my_ side when it comes to her.”

His mouth fell open in shock. “Anna—”

“Well, it’s true,” she responded curtly.

He blinked a few times, the shock settling in, and moved to sit down on the bed. “I…I didn’t know you felt that way. Or that I came off that way.”

Guilt seeped in. She was angry at Elsa not Kristoff, and yet here she was taking it out on him. Always pushing him away. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean—”

He shook his head. “No, you did. I get it. I can see why you’d feel that way.” He scrubbed his hand over his mouth, taking a moment to compose himself before he spoke. “She didn’t send me with an olive branch. I came on my own. _I_ was worried about you. _Me_.” He gave a small, deprecating laugh. “Contrary to popular belief, I’ve a mind of my own and I’m not the queen’s lackey. I’m…I’m sorry I haven’t been very good at making that clear. I’m always on your side, Anna.”

_You wouldn’t be if you knew the whole of it_.

“Do you mean that?” she asked instead.

“Of course I do, you’re my best friend!” he answered quickly. “My wife.”

She didn’t know why, but it was comforting to hear Kristoff say it. Even if he didn’t know the truth and that she was a despicable human being who had hurt and betrayed him. She hadn’t meant to. What she had done had never been out of malice towards Kristoff. She hadn’t been thinking much of him at all when she had begun her descent into depravity with Hans.

And that shamed her more than anything.

She hated that she now owed Elsa for that too. For not breathing a word of it to Kristoff. The idea that he’d potentially hear the news from someone other than herself made her feel sick. And she knew eventually she’d have to come clean and tell Kristoff the truth. Only she couldn’t bear to do it today. Kristoff hating her on top of everything else was too horrible to imagine. She already felt guilty and ashamed of everything she’d done, and Elsa coming in and ‘fixing’ the problem as though Anna couldn’t handle her own affairs only made her feel that much worse about it.

She knew Elsa had done what she had done to protect her, and that her sister had believed her course of action in the matter to be the right one, but Anna still resented it. Yes, Hans had turned out to be disingenuous with his affection, but he was still Anna’s to deal with. Elsa never should have gone behind her back and acted. Anna didn’t need or want Elsa swooping in and saving her, doing it all Elsa’s way without any regards to Anna. It was humiliating and made her feel especially bitter about the whole thing. How could she ever be trusted to make the right decisions, if she was never allowed any input or any say? Even in the context of her own life?

She knew she wouldn’t be furious with Elsa forever, and knew her anger was only surface deep. The only reason she was as furious as she was, was because Anna had been so horribly wrong and felt immensely embarrassed for her role in it. She hated that Elsa had been the one to fix everything with the wave of her hand, while had it been her, it would have been a struggle and not nearly as neat and tidy.

_But it would have been mine_ , she thought with defiance. She would have gotten some closure over Hans. Instead, she was left with the aftermath and no outlet, just like before. Back at square one. Always going in circles and never seeming to learn. What she wanted most was to tell Hans off, give him a piece of her mind, not because anything she said would matter to him, but because it would matter to her. It would help her move on and get over it. Get over _him_. Once and for all.

Even the last time he’d broken her heart, she’d at least been able to get the physical gratification of decking him one good, and feeling a sense of brief justification, like a wrong had been righted in some small way.

But this time, with Elsa’s interference, Hans had gotten off clean as a whistle. No consequences for his actions. On the contrary, he’d been rewarded being sent home a free man. A prize for duping Anna and then tattling on her.

Her cheeks flushed. Everything they had shared together. Everything that had been private and had been theirs, now wasn’t. All their intimacy had Elsa as an interloper.

Anna had given herself completely to a man who had only been using her. She should have known better.

That was the real kicker.

It was Hans, and she should have known better.

Elsa knew better.

And that fact alone made her grind her teeth. Made her want to scream like a banshee and wail long into the night.

Because it meant only one thing to Anna.

Everything that had made her feel happiest and most like herself was _wrong_.

She was wrong.

And Elsa was right.

She hadn’t known that it was a competition between her and Elsa until she had lost it. Until Elsa had won, and Anna was now faced with bitter defeat, knowing she’d have to conform and that there was no life or future outside of being what Elsa wanted her to be. _Expected_ her to be.

Her pet had been let off the leash and out of the yard, the expanse of the whole wide world and freedom at his fingertips, and he’d ran. He’d taken the opportunity and he’d _ran_. Leaving her behind without a second thought, probably laughing all the way home.

A cold chill went down her spine. What would he tell people of her when he got home? Would she be some bawdy tale, laughed about in gentlemen’s clubs over cigars and cards? How was she supposed to contain that kind of slander if word got out from Hans?

Which it would. There was no doubt that if he had no qualms about blabbing to Elsa, he’d blab about it to everyone else. She could almost hear him bragging about it now. His cheeks rosy, grin wide, revelling in how he’d seduced the Crown Princess of Arendelle while he was behind bars, how she’d gone to him last night practically begging him to satisfy her carnal needs. Desperate to have him.

The tears did spill then, and to her surprise, it was Kristoff who brushed them away before she had a chance to. The pad of his thumb swiped over her cheekbone in a gentle caress and he drew her into a quiet hug. She went to him, finding him just as sturdy and safe, just as dependable as he’d always been. And if she closed her eyes hard enough and pushed everything else away, there was only Kristoff left. Her one friend. The one thing that was hers, and not Elsa’s. He’d said so himself.

_I’m always on your side_.

“How long before we leave for the mountains?” she asked.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he answered. “I’ve been set for days. But, Anna? I do think maybe you should make amends with your sister first. You don’t want that hanging over your head.”

“Yes, I do,” she replied, not ready to forgive Elsa and wanting nothing more than to disappear for awhile. “I want to leave tonight. I…” she paused, hesitating. Was she being rash? _No_. She was done fighting against the world. Now was the time to retreat. Lick her wounds. Heal. “I want to go home, Kristoff.”


	28. Chapter 28

“You look like a goddamned dog, a mongrel, waiting here every day for its master to return. It’s pathetic. _You’re_ pathetic.”

The words were Lennart’s, and Hans did his best to brush them off and erase them from his heart. Trying not to bristle at how close to the mark his brother actually was. He kept his eye trained on the horizon, staring out at the sea. Ignoring the fact that this time Lennart was not alone, Ulrik and Georg stood behind him.

It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that the two brothers he’d always been closest to were here today as well, looks of concern etched on each of their faces. It didn’t matter that he looked crazy or that they were worried about him. It didn’t matter. _None_ of it mattered.

He said he’d wait.

And he’d meant it.

She would come.

It would all make perfect sense once she came. Once they all saw her. He’d show his dedication had been worth it. One look at her and they would all know. Anna was worth the wait.

And he _had_ to be here waiting for her. The moment she stepped off the gangplank, she had to know that he was loyal, steadfast. Hers. That despite it all, he had remained hers without question. One look at him, and she would know.

For almost three months now he’d done it without fail. Got up each morning with the sunrise, ate quickly and went straight to the docks, watching for her ship to come in and herald her arrival. He’d sit at the docks up until the final ship arrived, day after day, week after week.

And now, month after month.

“Hans—” Ulrik broached carefully, his voice way too gentle.

Hans clenched his jaw tight, keeping his eyes forward.

_Don’t waver. Don’t look at him. It doesn’t matter._

_Watch for her ship._

_They don’t get it. They don’t understand._

They never had.

Right from the moment he’d returned.

His arrival home had been met with mixed reception. His parents didn’t seem to care, his return not worth noting—which wasn’t so bad of a thing considering that his past actions had tarnished the family name. He’d anticipated some form of a reprimand, and had received none. Largely, his parents’ ire was directed at Lennart for failing miserably at trade negotiations with Arendelle, and Hans was left as a blind spot in his parents’ eyes.

As for his many brothers, Hans was met by some with disdain, some with indifference, and some with genuine pleasure to have him home safely. For the most part, he was treated as though he’d never been gone, though a few of his older brothers showed far more concern for his well being than they’d had in the past, particularly Ulrik.

His, what they saw as peculiar, habit of rising early and heading straight for the docks to watch patiently for ships to sail in all day, was disturbing to a number of them the longer it carried on, none but Lennart ever voiced opinions to him on it though.

And Lennart’s opinions on it weren’t worth it, and came from a place of intentional malice. A new thing he could pick at and needle Hans with, increasingly frustrated when Hans would not take the bait and respond.

Annoyed that Hans had come home different. Quieter, less reactive.

But Hans couldn’t be bothered by Lennart. Not now. Not with Anna.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Georg nudging Lennart, jerking his head to the side, motioning for him to get lost. With an angry huff, Lennart skulked off. Then Ulrik sat down beside him, directing his gaze to the ocean. Georg remained standing, lingering close by.

“Hans…this has to stop.” Ulrik said, clasping his hands in his lap, reminding Hans of the way their father used to sit down and ‘impart stern wisdom’ on his sons. “It’s nearly midsummer, and you’ve been home since the end of March.”

He didn’t appreciate the timeline shoved in his face. So what if it had been months? He was sure Anna would come for him. Even if the guard hadn’t gotten Hans’s message to Anna, she _loved_ him. Finding out what Elsa had done had to be enough to send her careening towards him. To cut her ties with Arendelle and choose _him,_ once and for all.

How could she take such offense to Lennart’s cruel words and plan him _a whole birthday,_ to then not come running to him as soon as she’d learned what Elsa had done to her precious pet? It was so much worse of an offense than some garbage words from his brother.

It didn’t make sense. Anna would have to be angry, furious with her sister. Furious enough to _leave_. Elsa had taken him away from his home, and there was no way he could fathom that Anna would stand for that.

He was her pet, and Anna was nothing if not very protective of her pet. She didn’t like anyone hurting him. She’d made that so clear in the past.

_So why isn’t she here now?_

It didn’t matter that she’d never written him, and that it had really stung when after the first week had passed, she hadn’t arrived. Signaling that Anna had not gone immediately after him that very morning when she awoke, like he had expected her to.

It was just a test. Anna was testing him. Surely, that’s all it was. He just needed to stay firm, remain devoted. Make it to twenty-five, and he’d be rewarded.

_Twenty-five has come and gone over and over again_.

“She’ll come.” It was the first time he’d spoken of her out loud.

Ulrik exchanged a quick glance with Georg. “So, it is a girl, then?”

_Not just ‘a girl’. My lady, Anna._

And it was none of their business, he wasn’t talking to them. Neither Ulrik or Georg would get it, both being complete rakes, leaving a trail of broken hearts behind them wherever they went. How could they possibly understand what he had with Anna?

He’d been talking to himself, a vocal reaffirmation that Anna would come for him, despite how the odds were stacking up against him. Ulrik and Georg just happened to be within listening range.

No one could make him stray from his task.

He’d get up and do this for the next year if he had to.

“I thought you were imprisoned in Arendelle,” Ulrik said slowly, and Hans hated that his brother had taken his words as an invitation to pry. “How could you have met a girl?”

He shrugged, planning on nipping the conversation in the bud. It was distracting, and he needed to concentrate on the water, recognize the flags as they came into view. Wait for the Arendelle colours, the crocus.

“She had access to me,” Hans responded lightly. “Visited.”

Ulrik frowned.

Georg groaned, and Hans briefly took his eye off the water to glance at his brother before quickly shooting his gaze back.

“Don’t tell me you started a romance with some highborn lady.”

Hans didn’t answer, jaw clenched and swallowing hard.

“Hans,” Georg prodded. “The only people that would have had any access to you were people of power. You were a high-profile prisoner. Please tell me you didn’t go and entertain some bored lady or duchess while incarcerated.”

Had Anna come to him out of boredom in the beginning?

He felt his cheeks grow hot. Guilty, like he was five years old again and getting caught red handed sneaking cookies from the kitchens and lying anyway.

“No.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, per say, they’d asked if he’d entertained some lower ranking noble, not the crown princess. And what was the big deal anyway? It wasn’t all that different from what Ulrik and Georg were always doing all the time with countless women. Like they were ones to judge how he conducted himself.

Hypocrites.

Ulrik sighed. “You can’t trust those ones, Hans.” His hand clamped down on his shoulder. “It’s a fun bit of dalliance, that’s all. Nothing serious ever comes of it.”

He felt his temper flare. Flames of fury licking up his throat. They didn’t know her. They didn’t know Anna at all. They didn’t know how seriously Anna took their relationship. How she looked after him, how she made him feel, how she _loved_ him.

How dare they presume that he was just ‘a bit of fun’ to Anna, that she hadn’t been serious about him? That she hadn’t really loved him. That it was all a game.

_Why isn’t she here yet? She should have been here by now…_

“She loves me.”

“Did she tell you that?”

It was the skepticism in his brother’s voice that caught him, affecting him far more than anything Lennart had ever said.

He did turn then, his outrage swift and temper molten. “Yes!” he snarled the words, flinging them in his brothers’ directions. He was ending this once and for all. It wasn’t farfetched that Anna loved him, or that he was someone _worth_ loving. It wasn’t unreasonable that a highborn lady could want him. “She doesn’t love her husband! She loves me, and she’s coming here, and she’ll be with me!”

But his words did not have the reaction he’d hoped for. Neither of his brothers had looked shocked, or looked as though they could see the truth in his words. Instead, they looked pained, sorry.

“Oh, Hans,” Georg breathed. Whatever else his brother wanted to say wouldn’t sound, he looked to Ulrik instead.

And Hans couldn’t help but turn his attention on Ulrik, his heart pounding, pulse racing, ready to attack whatever came out of his brother’s mouth.

But Ulrik’s mouth stayed slack…the sorrow in his eyes, the sympathy on his face.

And Hans couldn’t stand it.

He didn’t need pity. He wasn’t pathetic. Anna would come for him. She had to come for him. She had to.

He didn’t realize he was trembling, his fists balled. The prick of tears hit, the emotion threating to spill, his composure beginning to unravel.

He just had to keep waiting.

Anna was not one of those women, whatever his brothers had said. She wasn’t. She hadn’t played him. It had been real.

_But she isn’t here._

He squared his shoulders, and raised his chin in defiance. “She’s—”

“—not coming, Hans,” Ulrik finished softly. “She’s not.”

He choked back a sob. A sad, strangled noise that was just as pathetic as Lennart had called him. No way was he going to cry in front of them. Westergaards did not cry. So he did the only thing he could think of.

Focus on the horizon until he could disconnect himself from the pain. From the truth of it.

“Even if she did love you,” Georg began carefully, “you had to have known that she would never leave her husband for you. You could never expect a woman of comfortable means to disgrace herself for you. Love or not.”

“Even if she wanted to,” Ulrik added gently. “When you left Arendelle, society wouldn’t let her follow after.”

They didn’t understand though. They didn’t know what Elsa had done. The only thing that had ever really stood in Anna’s way was her loyalty to her sister. Her ties to Arendelle. And Elsa sending him away in secret should have been the thing to spur Anna into finally leaving. Into being with _him_.

Anna would have risked disgrace for him. She would have.

Except she hadn’t.

_You were wrong._

She hadn’t even sent word to him. She had to know he couldn’t write her. That it was up to her to keep in correspondence. That Anna would have found a way…if she had really wanted to.

The cold truth of it hit hard.

He’d never received any letters from Anna, because Anna hadn’t bothered to send him any.

He swallowed a thick lump in his throat.

The weight of his collar, which he’d continued to wear without breaks since he’d arrived home, suddenly felt very heavy, stifling, suffocating. Restricting.

The mark of a fool.

He should have known better than to let her in.

Ulrik stood up suddenly, dusting his pants off before holding his hand out to Hans. “Up you go, come on, we’ll buy you a pint.”

“Or five,” Georg finished, giving him an awkward but comforting pat on the back. “Only way to kill a broken heart is to drown it.”

“Yeah,” Hans answered, a sort of familiar numbness drifting over him. “I’ll catch up in a second.” His brothers looked unsure. “I promise.” He forced a smile. “I just need a minute.”

Ulrik eyed him warily for a second, then nodded, and he and Georg headed off to the direction of their favourite gentleman’s club.

When he was sure he was alone, he walked to the edge of the dock, looking out at the horizon one last time. Sniffing back the tears he refused to let fall, he fumbled with his cravat, his hands shaking as he undid the knot, pulling his shirt buttons loose.

He sucked in a deep breath, steadying himself when his fingers brushed the leather of his collar. In a mixture of heartbreak and rage, he tore the damn thing from his throat. Clutching the offending lie in his hand, he pulled his arm back, winding up for the throw.

He stood there with his arm raised at the sea. Poised and ready to rid himself of his tether to Anna and join his brothers. He wasn’t a pet. Not anymore. He wasn’t worth keeping or finding. Anna’s long absence had more than proved that.

_Stray mongrel it is then._

Now, the tears flowed freely down his face despite his best efforts to contain them. Despite being a Westergaard. Ashamed that Anna could still make him feel something other than anger and hatred.

He’d never forgive her for that.

His fingers clutched the soft leather and gold tag tightly, his arm wound taut. It was now or never.

_Hans, belongs to Anna._

_What a joke._

The only way to kill a broken heart was to drown it.


	29. Chapter 29

Anna stood in her party dress and glowered at the wagon, packed and ready to go, Kristoff throwing in the last of her bags with a lazy sort of effort.

“Look, I know you don’t _want_ to go, but you can’t not attend your own birthday party.”

“She did it on purpose.”

“Well, yeah,” Kristoff stated, as though that was obvious. “How else was she going to get you to come back to Arendelle?” He helped her up into the front of the wagon. “You’ve been up here for months. And here I thought you hated the mountains.”

“Not as much as Arendelle,” Anna muttered.

Kristoff merely raised his eyebrows. “You two are being stupidly stubborn. You’re sisters—family. You love each other. Maybe it’s time you two buried the hatchet.”

Anna sighed. She knew Kristoff was right. Being mad at Elsa for so long was simply a safety blanket she had been using so that she didn’t have to look at her heartbreak over Hans too closely. And yet, not a day went by that she didn’t at some point think of Hans.

Whenever she did, she brushed him out as quickly as she could. Sweeping away any feelings or memories. Her heart like thin spun glass, ready crack at the softest touch. Thoughts of Hans had no place in her life now. She was settled. She was trying to be a good wife…even though she still hadn’t told Kristoff about her unfaithfulness, worried that saying something now would just ruin her marriage.

Marriage.

Is that what she had been doing with Kristoff since she’d come with him to the mountains? It didn’t really feel like it. Instead, they had settled into a friendly sort of living arrangement. Mundane and quiet. Kristoff was good to her, as he’d always been. They formed a comfortable routine here, but something always felt off. Part of it, she surmised, was that Kristoff hadn’t come to their bed seeking the comforts a wife was supposed to give since that last night at the palace months ago.

The night that everything had been so perfectly right, and then so horribly wrong.

She shuddered, not wanting to dredge up the awful memories that accompanied that night. What mattered was that Kristoff was different in the mountains, much more at home and laid back. Not nearly so stressed and uncomfortable as he was in Arendelle. He had been right when he’d once told her that he was in the mountains. The mountains were simply a part of who he was, and she could see that clearly now.

Only, she’d often find him looking at her in quiet contemplation, as though he was studying her face while she was reading or doing her rosemaling. He always looked like he had something he wanted to say, but he never did. Kristoff was not an open book with his thoughts here and tended to not just blurt out whatever was on his mind.

Anna appreciated it. No doubt her ongoing fight with Elsa on his mind.

He was wise to keep his thoughts on that to himself, for the most part. Occasionally, he’d broach the subject, and give a quick piece of advice on the matter, and then shut up. Clearly not wanting to start a fight or argue with her. He gave her space, something she desired more than anything.

But as much as she’d grown into her life in the mountains, she would never be able to shake the feeling that it wasn’t enough. That she’d almost had so much more to life than what she’d been offered. That she’d almost had her heart’s true desire…however wrong it had been.

She’d never find that in Kristoff, even though she’d looked for it again in him after Hans had left.

She supposed that was also part of the reason she was still so angry with Elsa. She’d lost a part of herself that day. A part she knew she could never get back, and it was the part that made her happy, made her passionate and exuberant for life. Since it had gone, she’d gone quiet. Her light dimmed. She’d sunk into conformity, and put her efforts into excelling at mediocrity.

She had become what everyone had expected of her. No longer was she dogged by whispers of scandal, of disgrace. She was Crown Princess Anna, Official Ambassador of the Arendelle Trolls. A job she preformed well. Nothing but praise for her work, even in the letters from Elsa.

Not that she cared. It was a job and a title. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ready?” Kristoff asked, taking Sven’s reins.

“No.”

He gave a little chuckle. “It’s your birthday, you’ll have fun. No one says you have to spend the whole day with her. It’s a kingdom wide party.”

“Promise you’ll let me sneak away from her?” she asked.

“Promise.”

Anna smiled a little. Despite insisting that she hated Arendelle, she did miss the familiar faces of the kingdom folk. She missed the sweets and pastries, the lights and music, and Elsa would know that. Elsa would know that a party with all the trappings was the only thing that would tempt Anna back, despite herself. That it was _her_ birthday party, was simply Elsa making sure Anna had to be there. Her sister had left no ground uncovered.

It was a lot of effort.

Maybe it was time to forgive Elsa.

It wasn’t a definite yes, but Kristoff would be pleased to know she was at least considering it. So, she didn’t say anything. These past few months, he’d been worried about her, constantly checking up on how _she_ was feeling, and she didn’t want to admit that she wanted to hold on to that for a little while longer, basking in his attention and concern. Afraid it would dwindle the moment she reconciled with Elsa. Afraid she’d lose that bit of Kristoff she had gained in the fight.

It was sad how desperate she was to feel special. Loved.

The result of Hans’s betrayal hitting her harder than she wanted to admit.

She shook his name from her mind. Not today. Not on her birthday.

She would not think of him.

She wouldn’t.

***

The party was surprisingly just what Anna had needed. It was incredibly difficult to stay in a sour mood when there was life and excitement going on all around her. Even if her reunion with Elsa felt stiff and forced. A show for an audience that everything was _fine_. _Lovely_ between the sisters, and that the quiet, circling rumours of a falling out were just that. Rumours.

Anna could play the part for a day. Smile prettily as she strolled the courtyard, arm in arm with Elsa, greeting ambassadors and dignitaries that had arrived from neighboring kingdoms for her party—silently aware that no one representing the Southern Isles had been invited.

_Good._

She didn’t think she could be friendly towards anyone representing Hans’s family. Not after everything he’d done to her. And Elsa, bless her, had already taken that into consideration.

_See? She’s trying to make things right._

Was she being stupidly stubborn like Kristoff had said? Probably. Kristoff generally wasn’t unreasonable, and did give fairly good advice. It was simply a matter of Anna being ready to finally bury the past with the hatchet.

She had a good life now, and that had come at the insistence of Elsa. Elsa looking out for her like a big sister should. There was no sense insisting on being angry with her. Elsa had only done what was right for everybody.

She had saved Anna from a grave and serious mistake. A mistake that had she followed it through, would have had lasting consequences that would haunt her a lifetime. Brand her a fallen woman. The worst thing a woman could possibly be, all for the sake of a man who hadn’t really loved her. Her pride had gotten in the way of accepting Elsa’s help and had almost ruined everything.

She was about to tell Elsa that it was done. That she forgave her, when Kristoff suddenly swept her up into his arms, grinning impishly at Elsa.

“Sorry, Your Majesty, but the citizens of Arendelle all agree, their princess has sweets to eat and songs to dance to outside the gates! You’re not the only one who’s missed her presence.”

Elsa gave a hearty laugh that the rest of the royal court copied, and bid Anna farewell, reminding Kristoff than Anna still needed to arrive for cake and toasting later on.

Kristoff led her outside the gates where Anna was embraced by excited children, offering her daisy chains and wax wrapped sweets. He stood off to the side while she was greeted by people in every direction. She smiled at him, letting him know it was okay for him to leave, knowing he’d never been particularly good with crowds. He gave a quick salute and grabbed a few carrots, no doubt off to find Sven. He’d catch up with her later.

She’d been alone with the crowd for a few minutes when a familiar voice rang out over the throng of voices. Easy to pick out because she recognized it. She spun around looking for the man that matched the voice, her heart racing as memories came flooding back in full force, painful and raw.

“Princess Anna!” he called, waving his arm to get her attention over the crowd. “Princess Anna! My lady! A quick moment if I could?”

One of Hans’s old guards.

She nodded to him in acknowledgement, politely excusing herself from the crowd, and following after him as he ducked behind a nearby building. She probably shouldn’t follow him. No good could come from it, seeing him only reminded her of Hans. And she did not want to relive that mess again, especially today in a crowd of people. But the man had always been kind to her, he’d even taught her how to use the whips properly, and he’d been there to comfort her the day she’d accidentally drawn blood. He was a good man, and Hans wasn’t his fault.

She rounded the corner to meet him, where he bowed deeply. “My lady, Princess Anna, my apologies on pulling you away from your birthday celebration, but I’m afraid I’ve a matter of great importance I have sworn to attend to.”

She frowned slightly. “A matter of great importance?”

“Yes, my lady. I had not anticipated being reposted, nor that you would leave so quickly to the mountains and not return for months. I am so sorry I was not able to see you sooner to relay his message to you.”

Her heart dropped straight into her stomach, and she tried to numb herself from the flood of emotion beginning to rise up. “Whose message?”

Though she already knew the answer.

The man quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, fishing around for something. Anna watched intently, holding her breath, not daring to breathe. Pulling his hand from his pocket, the guard presented her with an item that made her cry out, her hand immediately covering her mouth in shock.

A lock of auburn hair tied with a bit of thread sat in his palm, held out to her.

“His message was only this, _‘I’ll wait.’_ , my lady.”

It couldn’t be. She bit her lip, trying to stave off tears as she stared at the lock of Hans’s hair. It wasn’t possible. Hans would not have left a love token, yet there was no mistaking that it was Hans’s hair. No mistaking that ‘ _I’ll wait_ ’, was very much a message he would give. Vague and covert, it could have meant a myriad of things to anyone, but not to her. It was exactly the kind of thing a pet would say to his master.

“That can’t be right,” Anna breathed, taking a step back, her legs suddenly like rubber. She steadied herself against the wall of the building behind her. “There’s been some sort of mistake. You see, I have it on good authority that he took Elsa’s bargain. She offered him his freedom and he took it without hesitation, and in exchange, he left me.”

The guard furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, his head shaking slowly. “Beg your pardon, my lady, but that ain’t correct. Whoever relayed the events to you, well, they got it wrong. I was there that night, Princess.”

_It couldn’t be._

“Wait…what?” she asked feebly. This couldn’t be happening. It had been months. She had been angry with Hans for months, broken hearted over him for _months_. And suddenly the details revolving that night were not at all what she’d been led to believe.

“He never took any bargain. He’d had no choice in the matter.”

“But…but… I’d been told—”

“—My lady, when Her Majesty asked him about you in exchange for leniency, he never said a thing, flat out refused any bargain. Went so far as to say he’d serve out the rest of his sentence in Arendelle if early release meant he’d only be able to return to Arendelle upon his death.”

“Upon his death?” Anna whispered.

“Yes, my lady.” The guard looked concerned. “Has no one told you those were the conditions of his release? I swear to you, it’s the truth. He never left of his own accord. He’d had no choice.” The guard paused, looking guilty. “Never sat well with us…what happened that night.”

Anna merely nodded, trying to process everything he’d just said. Weakly, she reached out to take Hans’s token. Nearly bursting into tears the moment her fingers came in contact with the familiar silky texture of his hair. _Hans._

Hans loved her.

This whole time. And he’d always loved her. Her heart soared at the news only to quickly plummet. The truth of it all made plain.

Elsa had _lied._

Had lied to _her._

There was no time to look at that anger, that outrage right now. She swallowed down all her emotions, hastily composing herself. She stood up straighter, her mind already at work.

“Thank you.” She grasped the guard’s hand warmly. “Good sir, you have done me a great service, one I will not soon forget.”

The man beamed at her. “I’m only sorry I couldn’t get it to you sooner, my lady.”

Anna shook her head, “Do not trouble yourself, there was nothing you could have done. But I may need your aide again in the future.”

The guard thumped his fist to his chest, and stood stalk straight. “Yes, my lady, Princess Anna. I am at your command, and will serve you honourably in any way I can.”

“Thank you.”

She bid the guard farewell, and tucked the lock of Hans’s hair into her corset, schooling her expression to one of joy and celebration, it was, after all, her birthday party. Elsa had carefully planned the event just for her.

Just as she had carefully planned past, more nefarious events for her as well.

Elsa was nothing if not fastidious. Especially when it came to Anna’s life.

She would have to be careful now. If she ever had any hope of seeing Hans again, she couldn’t let on that she knew the truth.

That Elsa had lied to her face.

And this time, Anna wasn’t going to stand for it. This time, Elsa had gone too far and pushed the limits of Anna’s loyalty to its breaking point.

And oh, how it had broken.

A vicious rage swept through her beneath her pleasant veneer of perfect princess. Nobody went after her pet. It was the final straw, and Anna knew that Arendelle was no longer her home.

Home was where Hans was.


	30. Chapter 30

It had taken a great deal of planning and a great deal of secrecy. Caution to the point of paranoia, afraid at any moment she’d be discovered and it would all fall apart. Time was of the essence. Too much time had already passed, and she couldn’t bear to think of how he was taking it. Surely, he knew she’d come to get him eventually. He had to know she’d come.

But what if he didn’t, what if the time apart had already broken him?

_Then you’ll deal with that when it comes_ , she told herself fiercely.

It had now been four months that they’d been parted. Would he really have waited that long? Anna had to believe he would. Her pet was loyal.

Everything was a risk. Every move she made had her looking over her shoulder. Things that would have eased her doubts and concerns weren’t foreseeable. Like sending letters. Too risky. Anna had no idea how far her sister’s reach went to keep her from Hans. No idea what could potentially unravel her plans. So, she erred on the side of extreme caution.

She decided to return back to the mountains with Kristoff. Yes, it was further away from where she needed to be, but she couldn’t risk Elsa discovering her plan, and if she was in close proximity to Elsa, there was always the chance that Elsa would find out. And if that happened, then Anna was out of options. Elsa would make sure of it.

So, in the weeks that had followed her birthday party, Anna had led a new double life, one of secret correspondence and hushed whispers, setting her plan into motion. Making connections, packing her things, securing passage on a merchant ship, calling in favours where ever she could, relying on trust and loyalty. Relying on the men she had come to know during her dungeon visits with Hans.

And finally, her hard work and planning had all come down to tonight. Her one shot.

Her plan to leave Arendelle for good.

She had never believed that she would ever leave her homeland, but then she had never believed that Elsa could sink so low or that her loyalty to her sister could be broken with a single lie.

A truly heinous single lie.

A lie that had nearly destroyed Anna.

A lie she would never forget.

She didn’t care why Elsa had done it. That didn’t matter. She’d had no right to do it. She should have come to Anna first. Elsa knew her actions were wrong, but had done it anyway. Had hurt Anna _on purpose_ with little thought or care to Anna’s position and feelings. All because Elsa believed that she knew what was best.

And Anna was finally done.

_Done._

She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could not stay here. She didn’t belong in Arendelle, _to_ Arendelle anymore. She’d go to Hans. They’d leave the Southern Isles together and she’d live out her life with him in a rundown manor surrounded by sunflowers. She didn’t care anymore about titles and reputations, loyalties or responsibilities. Let them all talk. Let the vicious gossip flow. She loved Hans, whatever the scandal such an admission might bring.

She was done living a lie, living a half life.

Her only regret was Kristoff.

She couldn’t risk Kristoff finding out that she was leaving. Leaving _him_. He couldn’t find out, not until she was long gone. He was the only variable Anna could think of that could stop her from going, and she couldn’t risk it. Not even for him. Kristoff would never stay on her side when he learned the truth of what she’d done. How she had betrayed their marriage. He’d side instantly with Elsa. It was a painful truth to acknowledge, but Anna couldn’t afford not to be disillusioned.

It hurt immensely to cut ties with him. He had been her first _real_ friend that she had made when the castle gates had finally been opened.

He’d be so hurt when he found out the truth, but there was nothing Anna could do for it. It was her or him. And she was done putting herself second.

Anna glanced over at their bedroom door, listening for his steady, even breath in slumber. Such a cowardly thing, sneaking away in the middle of the night without a word or a proper good-bye. Only a letter explaining what she’d done sitting on his bedside table for him to read in the morning when he awoke to find her gone. She was sorry it had come to this and that it had to be this way.

She only hoped someday he’d be able to forgive her, and that someday he’d understand. It was never personal, but she was in love with another man, and feared she always had been.

She gave one final look around the room, her home for the past few months, and took a deep breath. A twinge of guilt here and there where she spied all the extra touches Kristoff had made or added in his attempts to make the cabin her home as well as his.

_I’m so sorry, Kristoff._

With a heavy sigh, she bid the cabin a silent farewell. Tiptoeing to the door like she’d practised countless times this past month, learning which floor boards creaked and where to step, how to unlatch the door without it scraping…like a thief in her own home.

_This was never your home. It was your sanctuary. The place where you came to hide._

She’d made it to the door without a sound, her hand on the latch, her horse, Kjekk, waiting outside saddled and ready.

“So this is how we end, huh?”

Her blood ran cold at his voice. She gulped. The guilt of being caught and confronted kicked in her fight or flight response. She could open the door and make a run for it, she was almost there. Run from her husband. He’d catch her easily. He knew the mountains so much better than her, he’d take a short cut, cut her off. Kristoff had the physical power to subdue her if he wanted, and then she’d never have a chance to leave again. Not with him aware of her intentions.

She turned to face him instead. “Kristoff…”

He held up her letter, his face grim. “Just a note? Sneaking off in the middle of the night? I thought I was worth more to you than that.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you more than I had to,” she admitted, and it was true. Cowardly, but true. “I thought it was better this way.”

He heaved a sigh, tossing the letter aside, making her flinch. “It’s not. I can’t just let you leave, Anna—”

“—I know! That’s why I was—”

He held his hand up. “Please, just let me finish.”

He sounded so exhausted, so defeated, and Anna didn’t want to fight, but she couldn’t stay with him either. Even if he tried to keep her from leaving, she’d find a way to free herself she’d— _God_ , she’d fight him if she had to, though she did not want it coming down to that.

“I can’t just let you leave on your own at night.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression pained. “It isn’t…right. You have a terrible sense of direction, and it’s dark, and predators are active. God, Anna, do you even know how dangerous that is?”

Anna could only stare at him.

He went on, “No, anything could happen to you out there on your own. If you’re really leaving, then Sven and I will take you to the docks. Make sure you get on your ship safely.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “ _What?_ ”

“I said, Sven and I will take you.”

It had to be a trick. Somehow Elsa had found out, had gotten to Kristoff, even though she knew there was no possible way for that to happen. Kristoff hadn’t been to Arendelle, no letters had come for him. But paranoia would not let her believe otherwise. She was going against her sister’s—the queen’s—wishes.

“Just like that?” she asked, suspicion rising. “You’re not going to try and stop me?”

He had already moved to sit on the bench by the door, tugging his boots on, but he looked up at her, wryly cocking an eyebrow. “When have I ever been able to stop you from doing anything you’ve already made your mind up on?”

She had no answer for him. A quick tally of their history telling her that Kristoff had never successfully pushed her into anything she didn’t want to do, not without Elsa interfering. Not even moving to the mountains. He rarely told her _what_ to do, only what he _wanted_ her to do in hopes she’d agree.

And how quickly did he retreat when she pushed back? _Quickly._

She was potentially ruining his life right now, and he was going to let her.

“Kristoff…” And in that very moment, he stopped what he was doing just to look at her, and she saw her true best friend. The Kristoff she had met years ago and had adored and loved. “I am really sorry.”

He shrugged, glancing away, hiding the shine in his eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Who?” she asked, already knowing there was no point in playing dumb, but not really wanting to admit to him that she was leaving him for Hans. Still trying to save him from any unnecessary pain. As if him not knowing all the details could somehow shield him from all the hurt she’d caused.

He chuckled to himself, turning his attention back to his boots. “It’s always been him for you.”

And she knew he was talking about Hans. Who else could there ever possibly have been? It was then she realized that Kristoff was too calm, too composed, too practised, as though he’d known this was coming well before she ever did and had been prepared for it.

“How long have you known?” she asked abruptly, thinking back through the past year and all the times she had carried on with Hans behind his back, and wondering just how careful she had really been. Elsa had found out, why not Kristoff?

_Because he never said anything to you._

“Not that long. I mean, I knew he was always there in your heart. But then Elsa abruptly letting him go? And you locking yourself in your room the day after?” His voice cracked. “I heard you crying, Anna. Broke my damn heart to hear you like that. I knew him leaving had everything to do with it, just like I knew him being ‘pardoned’ in the middle of the night had _something_ to do with you. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice wavering. “I never meant—”

“It is what it is,” he said blandly, hefting her satchel up in his arms. “I love you, Anna, but you were never mine, and I always knew that.”

“I really wish I could have been better for you.”

His lips went tight, spread thin and he opened the door, holding it open for her. He paused at the doorway once she was out. “Anna…before we leave, you need to know that I can’t do this again. If…if things go wrong and don’t work out the way you want…I can’t be here for you when you get back. I won’t save you. I just can’t put myself through that all over again.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t want you to, or expect you to.”

“I figured you’d say something like that. I just wanted to make sure I was clear that I’m not a back up plan. This—this really _hurts_ , and I won’t do it again for you.”

“Thank you, Kristoff.” She put her hand on his sleeve. “For everything.”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, his cheeks going pink. “I know I can’t stop you, so I may as well be decent about it…and you’re my best friend, so of course I want what’s best for you. I always have. I was just…” He stopped, looking uncomfortable. “I was just wrong when I thought what was best for you was me.”

***

Kristoff kept to his word and brought her to the docks, just as he promised. The trip had been strange and surreal. Anna filled the air with the whole story, whether Kristoff wanted it or not. Well…the whole story minus the intimate details that were no one’s business but hers. She felt Kristoff deserved to know the truth of her feelings. She owed him her honesty at the very least. And for his part, Kristoff listened, spoke a bit, and made a few jokes. In a weird sort of way, the air between them had been cleared. She wasn’t talking to her husband anymore, but to her dear friend instead.

He carried her luggage to the ship, handing it over to the waiting dock hand to bring aboard.

They stood silent, the moment of truth at hand.

“I guess this is good-bye,” Anna said softly.

“I guess it is.” Kristoff opened his mouth then closed it, then opened it again. “You’ll have to tell her sometime. I know you two aren’t exactly on the best of terms right now, and I know it’s worse than I had originally thought, but she’s your sister and she does love you. More than anything, she loves you, even if she has a funny way of showing it.”

“I know.” And she did. Elsa would always love her, just as she would always love Elsa. There was no changing that. They were sisters, and they always would be. “I just…” she sighed, hating how the truth summoned up sorrow and tears. “I just need some time apart from her. A chance to figure out me without her, and I think she needs to do the same.”

“Yeah.” He bit his lip. “I really wish I’d been better at all of this, mediating between you two—the responsibilities, the expectations, God. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Before…everything. But now?” He shrugged again, smiling softly. “Now it kinda feels like that again.” He held out his hand to her. “Friends?”

She didn’t take his hand, but flung herself at him, embracing him around the middle tightly. “Always,” she whispered as he hugged her back.

“We were always better this way,” he said when they pulled away, wiping the heel of his palm under his eye.

“Yeah.” She smiled, hastily brushing away her own tears. “We are.”

“Good luck, Anna.”

A dock hand signalled that it was time for her to board. Kristoff stayed on the docks, seeing her off, waving to her as the ship departed and she waved back, fat tear drops sliding down her face.

Kristoff had let her go. He’d always tried to do his best by her, and this time he had succeeded. This time he had gotten it right, and she couldn’t have loved him more for it. As far as he was concerned, their marriage was over. She was free. Kristoff wouldn’t pursue or claim any marital right over her.

Only Elsa would stand in the way of legalizing their divorce, and Anna hoped Elsa would not. Not for her own sake, but for Kristoff’s. He deserved to find his chance at happiness, to have his own shot at true love, to find a wife who would love him unconditionally and be all the things that Anna couldn’t be. He deserved a shot at falling madly, head over heels in love with someone and marry her because he loved her more than life itself, not because he felt he had to out of duty.

In the end, Anna had been able to at least give him that chance. It still didn’t stop her tears from falling as she watched Kristoff get smaller and smaller in the distance until she could no longer see him, leaving him, leaving Arendelle behind. A soon to be distant memory.

She grasped the locket around her neck that held Hans’s lock of hair, fingering the metal until her nerves had calmed down.

_‘I’ll wait.’_

_Soon, pet._


	31. Chapter 31

Anna took a deep breath and recited her introduction in her head…again. She’d spent a good portion of her trip trying to come up with the right words for when she arrived at the Southern Isles palace and addressed the King and Queen. Nothing sounded right.

_Good afternoon, I am Princess Anna of Arendelle, and I am here for your son, Hans. I will not be staying long. Just getting him and we’ll be off. Please ignore whatever letters my sister sends._

_Good afternoon, I am Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle…Hans is my lover and I am taking him. We don’t care what you think. We are in love and are going to be together._

_Good afternoon, I am Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle. Contrary to what this looks like, I have not brought scandal to your door. I simply need Hans back…for reasons. Important ones…_

She groaned. It was all awful. What she wanted was practically unheard of, and she _was_ bringing scandal to the Southern Isles’ doorstep. There was no genteel way to say that she had come here for Hans and that they were lovers. That he belonged to her. That she had abandoned her marriage and her home and had run off to be with him.

There wasn’t a way to tell his parents _how_ they had become lovers in the first place either.

_Funny story…while your son was imprisoned, he got aroused when I hit him, and so did I…so I made him masturbate in front of me while he followed my instructions. And then he became my pet and now he wears a collar and we want to be together._

God… How would anyone react well to the truth? And such a truth? There was so much about them that couldn’t be said.

It would have to at least come out that Hans was her lover and that she was here for him. She just had to be firm with her request. Confident. Whatever the outcome would be, she was determined to get Hans. Somehow or another, she’d get him back.

_Good afternoon, I am Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle. I come before you today in hopes that you will grant my request and let me have your son back. We are in love._

She stood on unfamiliar ground. She didn’t know anyone here but Hans. She’d never been to another kingdom before. She’d never had to properly address higher royalty from another kingdom before either…at least, without Elsa by her side, encouraging her, supporting her.

Those days were gone.

Anna was on her own. She’d just have to make do with what she was given and take it from there. Improvise.

No one had any idea what to do with her when she arrived on the Southern Isles. That was always the problem, and in this case, blessing, with unannounced royals. People panicked, thinking they’d missed a missive or a date, that someone somewhere had dropped the ball and screwed up. Anna, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, used it to her advantage.

She wasn’t about to announce to anyone, other than the King and Queen, that she had, in fact, run away from home and was only here to fetch her lover and be off. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be sent straight back home without further thought or question with no freedom, and no Hans. It was already a good possibility that if she had to tell the King and Queen why she was actually here, they, themselves, would do just that.

So instead, she let herself be escorted up to the palace under the guise of some diplomatic visit that had been arranged in advance. No one asked her to clarify why she was here, and she had simply stayed quiet, letting people assume and put the words out there themselves. It wasn’t her fault they misinterpreted why she was actually here, nor bothered to ask why she had arrived on a merchant ship instead of a royal vessel.

Honestly, that should have been the first clue that they had a wayward princess on their hands. Anna was certain that if it had been Arendelle, Elsa would have noticed right away. It was of little consequence to her though, as she was taken straight to where she wanted to be, and rather quickly at that.

To her dismay, she was informed en route that the King and Queen were out for the day, and would not return to the palace until dinner time. It meant that more people would now be made aware of her presence on the Southern Isles, and that concerned her. She had been hoping for a quiet audience with the King and Queen, in hopes that she and Hans could plead their case, convince his parents, and then leave for Kongsberg as soon as possible.

She had no idea how much time she had to dally here. How much time before the Arendelle armada showed up to drag her back home. It could be weeks; it could be days. It all depended on how quickly word of her disappearance had reached Elsa, and how long Kristoff had been able to stall. She suspected not long.

Time was not her friend here.

The Southern Isles palace was larger than any building Anna had ever seen in her life, and as she was led through the palace to someone of authority, she began to worry what would happen if she didn’t see Hans.

She couldn’t just ask after him, that would be suspicious, nor could she just go wandering off to search the palace for him. Not that she had any idea where to find him in such a place. She’d be caught and redirected back by some well-meaning servant or somebody. At least if that happened, she could play stupid and say that she, ‘got lost’. The palace was large enough for that to sound plausible.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to fret for long over the matter.

Her heart stopped the moment she stepped into a busy parlour room. Hans was indeed present when she was announced…only he did not look thrilled about it. He looked quite the opposite. He stood off to the side, refusing to make eye contact with her, though she tried on several occasions.

_He’s mad. He’s upset you left him so long._

That was understandable, she reassured herself. It had been months.

_It’s okay, you just need to talk to him. Straighten this out. You’ve done that before with him and it worked out fine._

Her chest tightened the closer a look at him she got. Hans didn’t look like himself at all, and that upset her more than anything. He’d lost weight, not a lot, but enough that his clothing hung sloppy. His complexion was much paler, sallow even, as though he hadn’t seen the sun since he’d arrived home. Dark circles hung under his bleak, watery eyes, implying he wasn’t sleeping well.

It was worse than she had thought. What had this place done to her pet? What had their time apart done to him?

She needed to get him alone and speak with him in private, explain what had happened, why she had been delayed. She had to fix this. Had to make things right. Their future depended on it. The sense of urgency never greater.

Though how she was going to do that, she had no idea.

How was she supposed to just outright say why she was really here in front of all these people? Admit to scandal? Admit to a love affair?

She couldn’t.

God, she should have thought this through better.

The detailed part of her plan had been to escape Arendelle to the Southern Isles…not what she was going to do when she got here. Honestly, in her head, she had just kind of assumed Hans would see her and then squirrel her off with him on sight.

And that was not happening.

Hans was acting like he didn’t even know her, let alone loved her.

It left her flustered and disoriented, and by the time she was presented an audience with Hans’s oldest brother, Crown Prince Vilhelm, Anna had lost her nerve. Lost it completely. She stood in the parlour room full of people, all staring at her. All except Hans. She may as well have had two heads the way people gawked.

“Good afternoon,” she began as strongly as she could, “I am Princess Crown An—” Her face went beet red. “ _Crown Princess_ Anna of Arendelle, here on, um…business. Business of a, uh…trades…goods…” _God_ , she sounded like an _idiot._

And it only went downhill from there.

She continued to trip foolishly over her words. Offering up the feeblest excuses as to why she was here, never once mentioning Hans, but frequently darting her gaze over to look at him and finding him no help at all. He still wouldn’t look at her. She quickly realized that actually saying why she was really here would end in disaster, not without Hans backing her up—which it did not appear he would be. Her pet was being difficult. She was lucky she didn’t look this stupid in front of the actual monarchs.

Anna had to keep reminding herself that she was technically still a Crown Princess herself, and was on equal footing with the man standing before her, who was clearly keeping his unspoken insults to her intelligence to himself even though his face said otherwise.

She couldn’t think of any moment where she had felt more embarrassed. How could she have forgotten how to give _her own name?_

What she really wanted to do was drop the façade, declare that Hans was hers and just grab him and run. Run like hell. Something she did not have the guts to actually do. Not with all these eyes on her. She was not at all the bold and confident mistress she had been in the dungeons. Faced with a room full of strangers—Hans’s _family_ —Anna devolved into a skittish, little mouse.

These people all acted as though they were superior to her in every way imaginable, even if they weren’t. No one knew she was a fallen woman, and that her lover was standing right there, pretending they were nothing, but somehow it felt like everyone knew anyway.

It felt like everything she had accomplished to get here was unravelling fast and right before her eyes.

This was a delicate situation. She needed time, but she also needed to get to Hans so they could _leave_. Panic was beginning to rise up in her. She needed to think of a plan and think it up fast—

“I suppose I’ve no choice but to entertain you while your rooms are being prepared,” the Crown Prince was saying with a heavy sigh, as though her arrival had severely altered his already busy day. It reminded her of Elsa and she internally cringed. The familiar pang of guilt that always went along with her feeling like an inconvenience.

_And yet…_

If the man was already busy and not keen on entertaining, Anna could suggest _another_ prince to escort her around…another _younger_ prince who likely didn’t have very many court responsibilities…

The silver lining to her dilemma.

She glanced in Hans’s direction, just in time to see him rolling his eyes, pushing himself off the wall and leaving. Leaving the room _._ She blinked. Watching in shock as Hans snuck silently through a nearby door. Leaving her behind. Leaving her alone and on her own.

For moment, she couldn’t breathe.

This was not good. Not good at all. Nothing was going at all like she thought it would. Hans was supposed to be elated to finally see her again, not sullen and contemptuous. Her pet was put out, and he was certainly acting like it.

And she couldn’t begin to fix _any_ of it unless she got to Hans first.

_Just go after him. Who cares what they all think?_

But she stood rooted in place, disappointed in herself for conforming and defaulting to decorum instead of following her heart. Afraid to move. Afraid to cause a scene.

“You’re busy enough as it is, Vil,” another prince spoke out, sidling up beside her and causing her to jerk her attention away from the door Hans had left through. “Perhaps it’s best if I take care of the princess for you. She’ll enjoy herself far more in my company than yours.” The man flashed her a brilliant smile, and despite being nearly twice her age, he was quite handsome, like an older version of Hans. She couldn’t help but blush under his winsome gaze.

The first friendly face she’d seen since she’d arrived.

The Crown Prince furrowed his brow, thinking over the request. “Are you sure? It’s just that it might be awhile, we had no idea she was coming—” he quickly turned his attention to Anna, “—our apologies again, my lady, for our shameful display of hospitality. It is not our intention to appear rude or ungrateful for your visit. It’s just we were caught unaware. A grave mistake on our part, and I offer my sincerest apologies to you again.”

Anna could only smile meekly, unable to shake the guilt of her lies and the added stress she’d put upon the Crown Prince. She was acting terribly and felt ashamed for causing such problems. This was not how royalty was supposed to behave. She had been taught better.

“It’s perfectly fine!” the interloping prince assured with an affable air. “I’ll take her ‘round the court, introduce her to the ladies, stroll the gardens, tour the galleries. It’s not every day we get an Arendelle princess visiting.” He smiled again, that same winsome smile, but this time, Anna got the distinct impression that this prince was a charmer and not to be trusted.

The Crown Prince seemed to think otherwise, and smiled gratefully at his brother. “Thank you, Ulrik. It would be a huge help.”

And before Anna could say a word, Prince Ulrik offered up his arm in a way that manoeuvred her arm around his without her ever moving and ushered her off grandly. He was much too smooth, and as they passed by various women of the court, he had the same effect on all of them. Swooning and sighing.

_Oh dear_.

Anna knew exactly what kind of man this one was, and needed to get out of his company quickly. The last thing she needed was to be caught in some awkward and misidentified embrace with this man—and he was surely the type to try such a thing. ‘Entertain her’ _indeed_.

If he was expecting some naïve, little wallflower based on her mortifying introductions, he was going to be sorely disappointed. She hardly needed this man’s help in being embroiled in scandal. She’d already done that with his youngest brother.

She needed to ditch Ulrik and find Hans. Fast.

“I beg your pardon,” Anna began as politely as she could after they had done half a turn about the room, “but where is the powder room? I feel in desperate need of freshening up.”

“Ah, yes, of course, my lady, right this way.” Ulrik steered her in the opposite direction and headed towards the door Hans had left through. Her heart quickened, only Ulrik led her past that door and towards a narrow hallway nearly hidden by potted plants. “Just follow the hallway, it’s right there at the end. I shall await your return.”

Anna smiled, gave a hasty curtsy and hurried off down the hallway. All she’d have to do was cut from the hallway back over to the door Hans had gone through and sneak out. It was a straight line. Except if Ulrik caught her…

To her surprise and great luck, the prince’s back was turned to the hallway. She had expected him to wait facing her direction, being such a keen escort. She breathed a small sigh of relief, the most obvious of her immediate problems having taken care of itself. All she had to do was sneak past without anyone else seeing her, which instantly made her nervous as she glanced out across the room. She’d easily be in the view of everyone looking her way if she wasn’t careful.

_You can do this. Just dart quickly through that door. If you go fast enough, no one will see you. You’ll—Oh no._

Prince Ulrik had hailed down another prince. One who must have just arrived, because Anna did not remember being introduced to this one. She quickly ducked behind a large potted fern decorating the hallway as the new prince arrived by Ulrik’s side.

“Georg!” Ulrik cried, slapping the new brother on the back in greeting. “You’ll never believe who has come to visit us _unexpectedly_ today.”

“Who?”

“The Crown Princess of Arendelle.”

The man’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he immediately scanned the room. Not finding what he was looking for, he leaned into Ulrik, speaking in a low tone that Anna couldn’t hear. She’d had no idea her arrival had caused such a stir, though in hindsight, she should have expected such curious reactions. It had been a very long time since anyone from Arendelle had been to the Southern Isles.

Which meant that everyone would be watching for her, wanting to catch a glimpse or get a word in with her, making escaping to the door Hans had left through nearly impossible.

_Damn it._

She’d just have to try her best.

She brought her attention back to the two princes. They were engaged in a quiet conversation, and to Anna’s surprise, the new prince also turned his back towards the hallway. As the conversation continued and their backs still angled towards her, the two men began to saunter off slowly…in the direction of the door Hans had left through.

She saw her chance immediately. She could use the two men as a shield of sorts and block herself from view of the rest of the room. It was perfect! She’d never have a better chance.

Anna steeled her spine and drummed up a bit of courage, creeping carefully, concealed behind the two men who, as luck would have it, stopped right in front of the exact door Anna was trying to get to, giving her ample time to stop and fiddle the doorknob open.

It unlatched almost soundlessly, and Anna pushed the door open just enough to slip through and out of the parlour room. She exhaled softly, quietly closing the door behind her. Her nerves on fire, adrenaline coursing her through veins, making her feel antsy and bold all at the same time. She couldn’t believe she had just done that. Lied, snuck away from court, all in pursuit of a man.

But she’d made it.

Now, to figure out where she was and then find Hans. And quickly. Lord only knew how much time she had before the ever-charming Prince Ulrik came to check on her, and she did not want to be caught somewhere she shouldn’t be by him and have him get the wrong idea. She shuddered at the thought.

Finally, with a weak bit of plan to work with, Anna turned around, revealing that she was now in a great dining hall. She was greeted by a massively long dining table lined with chairs along its length, all set and placed, ready for dinner. Even the tapers had been lit, leading her to wonder what time it was, and when they’d be eating, and if the servants had already added her place setting. A new threat added to her timeline. Dinner.

She groaned silently. As much good luck as she appeared to be having, it was countered by time not being on her side at all.

_Find Hans before his parents find you._

With dinner fast approaching, the King and Queen would soon be back. Any plans she had on pleading her case to them had fallen out the window the moment Hans had not reacted to her in any way she had envisioned. She needed Hans on her side. She needed her pet…and she had no idea where to begin looking for him.

_What else could go wrong?_

The answer came quick enough when a slight movement on the opposite end of the room caught her attention, startling her. She was not alone.

Anna froze, still and silent like a deer. She was standing in clear view, right at the end of the massive table. She could duck down, maybe hide underneath it… _God, do not hide under the table. You are the Crown Princess of Arendelle._

But whoever was in the room with her was unaware of her presence. There were no gasps or shouts of surprise, and as Anna squinted her eyes, trying to make out the figure at the back of the room, she could see his back was turned away from her and he faced the sideboard against the wall.

The man was partly concealed in shadow and looked absolutely dismal. His posture a mess, his head down and in his hands as he leaned on the sideboard for support, looking very much like a tormented soul in a painting. The quieter Anna stood there, the more she could hear it. The deep audible shuddering of breath followed by sniffing. Crying. Her heart ached at the sound. She’d stumbled across a man wanting to be alone.

A man she recognized, but also didn’t quite recognize.

“Hans?”

His body jerked up at the sound of his name as though he’d been struck by a pistol ball. He spun around to face her, composing himself quickly. The sniff of tears gone in an instant. He stood straight, his eyes hard and jaw set, disdain replacing sorrow.

“Why are you here?”

Not exactly the first words she had hoped for. Not at all the reunion she’d imagined. The air around him was not welcoming to her, his posture imposing, menacing. Dangerous. Every single one of her senses prickled, making her wary, making her alert.

This was her pet. But he was not acting like one.

Her puppy had become a wolf in their time apart.

Unsure, Anna advanced towards him very carefully. He was too unfamiliar, too wild. Unpredictable. Not at all what she had been expecting. Instincts told her that her best bet was to treat him as though he were a wounded animal that had been cornered.

_Be cautious. Be careful. Non-threatening. Soft._

She smiled weakly, a hesitant, sorry thing, unsure how close she should approach him. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Well, it wasn’t soon enough.”

She bristled at the tone, at the words. He was so cold. So distant. She took a small step backwards, freezing in the middle of the room, unsure if closing the distance between them was a good idea or not. He’d closed himself off from her, his guard up, his walls rebuilt.

He wasn’t at all her Hans, and as much as she was trying to remain calm and unswayed, his reaction to her hurt.

“What’s happened to you?” she asked, more out of shock than anything. “I was under the impression that you would wait—”

“—And for how long exactly were you expecting that to happen?” he asked snidely, his lip curling up into a snarl. He advanced towards her. “Until you bored of your palace life? Finally got fed up over some silly little slight?” His eyes narrowed. “What did she finally do to you that gave you no choice but to crawl back to me?”

She hadn’t meant to, but she took another step back, and another. The quicker he came to her, the further back she stepped. Shocked by what he was saying and the relentless cruelty behind his words.

“Or is it simply that you couldn’t find a replacement lover so easily at your fingertips while your marriage bed grew colder, so now you’re here seeking me out again?”

Anna gasped, the unexpected sting of tears surfacing. She had not expected this from him at all. This nastiness. He was barely recognizable to the man in the dungeons that she had fallen in love with. “Hans—”

But he gave no quarter. “Or perhaps he turned you out, did he? Found out about what you had done and tossed you aside? He’d be perfectly within his right to do it.” Something even nastier passed along his features, staying to rest in his eyes. “You wouldn’t be the first woman wanting to rekindle an affair with a Westergaard for her own gain, but I’m sorry to tell you, I am not a last resort. Go home, Anna.”

Her lip quivered and she tried to steady her emotions, tried to gather her thoughts, but with him standing before her so vile and _mean_ , she faltered. “I don’t understand… Why are you being like this? Saying these horrible things? I thought you—”

“—Loved you?” He laughed at that. A mad, barking sound that was so foreign to her ears. Another reminder that this wasn’t her pet, but a predator. A feral, untamed thing whose space she had foolishly wandered into. “It was only a game, and that game ended in Arendelle. You didn’t honestly think it would last, did you? That I’d remain some stupidly submissive beast content to do your bidding and cow to your every demand once released?” He puffed out his chest, raising his chin. “ _I_ am a Southern Isles _prince_ , not a discarded pet.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked, her voice rising, but wavering. Her whole body vibrating as she found a little of her nerve, her courage to meet his anger. “That I abandoned you? That I gave you up freely?”

“I gave _you_ up freely,” he countered.

She huffed, her own anger mounting. He couldn’t possibly mean it. Mean _any_ of it, but her fury rose quick, spurred on by the pain he’d caused. She fired back a threat she didn’t mean almost instantly, “If that’s true, then I demand my collar back! You don’t deserve it!”

His eyes widened, maybe briefly thrown off by her demand, but he slipped easily back into a sideways laugh. “Go get it yourself. I threw it away. It’s sitting at the bottom of the ocean as we speak.”

Her chest felt tight, a painful lump rising in her throat. How could he have done such a thing? He had loved his collar. Valued it above all his possessions. Her Hans would never have done such a thing. He wouldn’t have, but as she stared into his eyes, trying to read him, trying to find the lie…

She couldn’t.

It was a heavy blow, a confirmation that whatever had happened to him, whatever he had thought for the past four months was something that Anna might not be able to fix, though she was still going to try. She would not give up so easily. She had to try.

While she was hurt that he’d thrown away his collar, she wasn’t about to let him know that. Not until he was himself again. In the end, it was just a thing. A physical representation of what really mattered, and she would try to appeal to that. She still had that.

Even he couldn’t possibly deny _that._

“It was never my collar that kept you,” she said, keeping her voice soft but steely. “It was your heart. You loved me.”

His jaw twitched, and his gaze flickered just slightly. “Within the confines of the game,” he answered casually, his tone bored. “But this isn’t Arendelle. This isn’t a dungeon. I’m no longer caged.”

Anna frowned, trying to understand what was driving him to act like this. So difficult, so confrontational. Opposing her with every breath. He couldn’t possibly really mean any of what he was saying, yet he refused to accept her, was intent on hurting her, making her backdown. Making her want to leave.

She was running out of ideas and on the losing end of this battle. There was only one thing left to try that she could think of. One way left to appeal to him, to try and get him back. If this didn’t work—

With trembling hands, she fished out her locket, opening it up and revealing his lock of hair. His love token to her. Her last defence. “What is this then? _This—”_ and she waved the lock of hair fiercely in front of him— “is not a game.”

He closed the short distance between them, meeting her at her end of the table, swiftly using his physical presence to impede on her space, towering over her. A threat if she ever felt one. He snatched the lock of hair from her hand before she could stop him.

“No, not a game,” he answered simply, crushing the lock of hair in his fist and staring her down hard, that peridot green no longer holding her future but the last vestige of heart. “ _This_ is a lie.”

She stifled a cry, stepping backwards and jerking away from him. The fight draining out of her in an instant, replaced only with fleeing. She had come all this way…given up everything for him…

And he’d gone straight for the knife, cutting her just as sure as he had quick. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat, forcing the pain back down, bottling it up. The realization hitting her that she had arrived too late.

It was over.

Hans didn’t love her anymore.

It almost didn’t feel real. Love was supposed to win, supposed to prevail—

“How can you say that?” she whispered, her eyes burning as she willed the tears not to fall. She would never give him that satisfaction. He would never get to see her cry again. She’d die first.

“Go home, Anna. I don’t want you anymore than I need you.” He deliberately turned his back on her. An air of finality in his stance as he stood tall at the end of the table. Ending their confrontation and obviously waiting for her to leave.

To go back home.

_Home._

To where there was no Kristoff waiting. No Elsa to give a sympathetic, sisterly shoulder to cry on.

Anna moved as though someone else was controlling her limbs. Walking blankly towards the door, her mind still reeling over his words, over his reaction to seeing her again. Hans didn’t want her. It hadn’t quite sunk in. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Never in her worst nightmares had she ever thought their reunion would turn out this way. He was supposed to see her again and be thrilled she was here. She was supposed to be in his arms, and he in hers. They were supposed to be declaring their unconditional love for each other.

How had four months turned him into this… _this animal?_

She barely noticed how badly her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob. She had anticipated some anger from him, sure. Some hurt, but Hans had been reasonable in the past, willing to open up. Willing to talk.

Not now though, now he was something else entirely. Someone she had lost and couldn’t get back. He wouldn’t let her.

Left with no other choice than to scurry on home, because Hans wasn’t her pet…and he wasn’t a wolf either. She had been wrong with that. Misidentified the creature.

He was a snake. A snake with a poisonous tongue, spitting venom as a warning and she was his mousy, little prey—

_Little mouse, scurry back to your sister—_

_—No._

Her defiant response startled her, steadied her hand on the doorknob, as still as Anna herself had become in that moment. She swallowed hard and breathed in deep. Fire kindling from her heartache as something new engulfed her, rose up from her core. A gut feeling. A feeling from her heart. A feeling that stopped her body from fleeing Hans’s presence and never coming back. Because it occurred to her that maybe he actually _was_ doing this all on purpose. Deliberately pushing her in the only way he knew how to.

By hurting her.

Something had happened within the four months to make him act this way. Anna intended to get to the bottom of it. It was almost as if he was goading her, she realized. Wanting her to punish him. Needing her to.

It wouldn’t have been the first time Hans had dipped into a nasty persona to try and get what he wanted out of her. To make her act. He’d never been good with vocalizing exactly what he really wanted, what he needed from her. Honesty was hard for him on the best of days, especially when it was something close to his heart that made him vulnerable. It was something they had still been working together on. Something he had been getting better at with her.

The last time he’d acted in such a way was when he’d felt he needed to be punished and she wasn’t meeting his demands. But that had been after she had drawn blood and had been hesitant to whip him. When she was unable to play his haughty mistress and had not met his expectations. He’d been deliberately cruel, bringing forth her own frustrations and reactions, until she had risen to his challenge and fulfilled her role.

But he’d never gone as far as he had today, leading her to wonder what was really going on. Were they over, or weren’t they? She honestly didn’t know, now second guessing everything.

Doubt lingered, and she had not risked everything to walk away with doubts.

_This is not how we end._

Her mind went sharper, in the way it does when people get desperate. When there is only one option left to try before admitting final defeat. When survival mode kicks in. When it’s fight or flight. All or nothing.

And Anna did not come all this way to have a lowly, little snake hiss at her, snap its jaws and engulf her. Finish her whole.

She was not a mouse.

And he was not a snake.

The mistake in her initial approach with him had been hers.

She was a master.

_His_ master.

But she’d not acted like it, had she? She’d been a mouse—a shy, timid creature. Just as unrecognizable to him as he had been to her.

He’d been alone for months without her guidance, her control, her reassurance. Her love. What he had needed most of all was his master coming to get him. A firm grip and a commanding heart. He needed that woman from the dungeons bursting in, all fire and fury, demanding she have him and challenging anyone who dared tell her no.

And until he explicitly said otherwise, he was still her pet, regardless of how much he was trying to convince her he wasn’t. Her pet was being a very bad boy, and she had tolerated the behaviour. Cowered to him and gave him unearned authority.

And she was going to take it back.

She squared her shoulders, readying for the battle of wills that she was about to instigate. The risk she was about to jump heart first into.

_If you’re wrong about this…_

“No,” she said evenly, still facing the door and loud enough for him to hear her. The time for doubting herself was over. It was time to act. Time to be exactly who her relationship with Hans had transformed her into. “No, I will not go home. Not until you say _the word_ that ends it.”


	32. Chapter 32

He didn’t answer her right away.

Her heart hammered in her chest, a giddy sort of panic exhilarating her. The full force of what she was doing making her feel more alive than she’d felt in months. There was always a chance that she was wrong, and that this would hurt her more than if she had just walked away at his warning. But she was not leaving until she was absolutely sure of the truth. She had already made the mistake of fleeing once before, assuming the worst, and that had cost her dearly. She’d lost months with Hans because of it, only to return to him and find him like _this._

And if it turned out that she was wrong, if Hans had meant everything he’d said, then he’d have to say their safe word, ‘sextant’ to truly convince her. To make her leave. To end it completely and for good. But if he wouldn’t say it, then it was all the proof she needed, and she could weather his storm and claim her lost pet. Take him home where he belonged.

The catch was figuring out how much of a threat was Hans, if any? He was right when he’d said he wasn’t caged anymore. There were no bars here, no shackles protecting her, stopping him from doing whatever he wanted. An imbalance on the board. All she had over him was her authority, and would that be enough? Would it hold?

What if this wasn’t a play?

The uncertainty left her just as afraid as exhilarated. _But,_ she reminded herself sternly, _that’s what most risks that are worth taking do, and there is only one way to find out for sure._

 “Say it,” she repeated quietly, turning around to face him.

He scoffed; his back still turned. He wouldn’t face her directly yet. Something she took as a good sign. She’d thrown him off and currently held the upper hand, but for how long? With each exchange of words, power passed between them, each grabbing at it and trying to keep it. But if this was all a play, then even Hans knew that the power wasn’t his, and he would have to submit to her eventually.

_He’s being difficult because he wants you to prove that you think he’s worth it. He needs that reassurance._

“You’re being ridiculous,” he answered coolly, making the corner of Anna’s lip upturn. “I don’t need to say anything. I already told you, the game ended in Arendelle.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying that perfect back, watching the quickness of his breath as his shoulders rose and fell. Her analysis of the situation strengthening. She’d made the terms very clear. Hans was always well aware of words and their meaning. If he had really wanted her to leave, he would have said their word like it was nothing. Nothing at all to him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he’d deliberately _not_ said it.

So, she pushed.

“Then it should be of no consequence to you to say it,” she replied back just as coolly. “It’s only one more word, Hans. Surely, you can do that.”

His whole body stiffened, but he would still not turn to face her. She knew he didn’t like where she had taken this so quickly. She had called his tantrum and called his bluff. Exposing him. Forcing him to react much sooner than he’d likely expected. She wondered what she would see on his face if she could see him. When he spoke next, would it be ‘sextant’ or would it be something else?

 “You’re such a stupid, little chit,” he spat, “do you honestly think—”

_Gotcha._

She advanced upon him, quick as lightning, her palm flat out and open. She drew her arm back and hit him. Hard. Smacked him with all the strength she could muster right across his bottom. Shocked his unfinished words right off his mouth and into forgotten. He stumbled forward from the force of her spanking and gripped the end of the dining table with both arms to steady himself, the crockery rattling loudly.

“You need to be reminded of your manners,” she scolded.

He didn’t say anything. Whether it was from shock or discipline she wasn’t sure yet. But that didn’t matter. She had effectively put herself at a firm advantage. Each rise and fall of his quickened breaths proving it.

“Pull down your trousers, and bend over the table. You obviously need a refresher course in etiquette.”

“No,” he immediately responded, though it was hard to tell if he was forcing the outrage.

“I didn’t say you could speak. Unless it’s _that word_ , you keep your pretty, little mouth shut.”

“For God’s sake, Anna! My fam—”

_Whap!_

She gave him another good swipe across his butt. He inhaled sharply and his arms buckled. She saw her opening and moved. She was not tolerating any more disobedience from him. Not this time. He needed to remember his place. Using the whole of her weight, she shoved him as hard as she could, pressing him down onto the table, and held him there by his neck.

His breathing went fast in seconds. His pulse had to be racing. The air between them rife with anticipation. He had to be just as excited in this moment as she was. She’d never been this rough with him before. It was invigorating and tense, and Anna didn’t think she could feel more powerful. More alive.

And God, how she had missed this. This frenetic energy. This desire. This thrill.

She’d never be able to actually keep him pinned to the table, actually restrain him, but Hans stayed down as though she could. As though she could physically overpower him without a second thought. Another clear sign that he’d never really wanted her to leave. She was now very sure that she was correct in her assessment, and what Hans really wanted was her punishments. She’d work up to the why in time. Right now, the heady call of attraction was all that mattered. All she wanted.

“Trousers down,” she commanded. “Now.”

He wriggled with little effort under her grasp, keeping himself in her control. “Let me up! My family is in the next—”

She gave an exasperated sigh and struck him again. _Smack!_

“No speaking.”

This time his whole body shuddered at the contact. He immediately lay prostrate on the table, right down the middle of the carefully set place settings that clanked and tinkled with every move he made as though cheering them on. She grinned when his buttocks tipped slightly upwards.

“I swear,” she griped, making her perceived annoyance as vocal as she could, “I have to do everything for you, don’t I?”

He remained silent, but oh that accelerated breathing. _Always so excited._

She reached a hand around his waist and sought out his fall front, undoing each button with a practiced hand. He did not try to stop her. Didn’t utter a word. Didn’t move. Not even when she removed her other hand from his neck to tug his loose trousers down to his knees. She brushed the tails from his coat to the side, exposing his naked rear to her. Just as perfect and supple as she remembered it. All it needed was a good shade of pink.

“I’ve still not heard you say _it_ ,” she continued, keeping an edge to her voice. “And you’ve been a _very_ bad boy with me, haven’t you, Hans? You know I can’t let that slide.”

She slapped him again, and this time, he groaned. A sultry, breathy sound that instantly perked her nipples up. She’d missed that sound from his lips. Missed the sound a slap made when it hit bare flesh. Missed the way her hand could mark him in a delicious, strawberry tone that showed exactly where she had struck him and how hard. Missed the satisfaction that came with subduing him. The arousal of power. Of being the one in command.

And God, she’d missed _him._

Her cunt throbbed as if on cue, aching instantly for him. For that promised cock.

“Did you really think that you got to decide when we were done? That a puppy could pretend to be a prince and that it would work on me?”

_Whap!_

 “Answer me.”

“Yes…” he replied. “I mean, no!”

She couldn’t help but grin at the lick of confusion in his answer. Puppy had no idea how to respond, what the right answer to appeasing her was because there wasn’t one. There was the truth, and then there was the lie, and both were unacceptable.

She tsked, “And now, given my permission to speak, you still think you’re a prince. That you’re my equal. Such an arrogant, vain, little puppy. You can’t even remember the simplest of rules and address me properly.”

His entire body went still, realizing his mistake.

“I can, my lady!”

He tried to turn his head towards her, but Anna moved quicker, pinning his neck down before striking him just as hard across his bare ass. The sharp sound punctuated by his gasp echoed through the dining room. Its high ceilings giving acoustics to the act that their dungeon never could. It thrilled her. Aroused her, and she wanted to know if he was just as hard as she was wet.

Because this was the reunion that should have happened in the first place.

“The rules, Hans, recite to me our rules. Let’s see if you’re as intelligent as I remember you to be.”

“I address you only as ‘my lady’, my lady,” he answered instantly. His signature eagerness shining through.

“And?”

He spoke in flurried rush, “I am to give myself to you and follow your commands. I am to obey. I will not speak unless given permission to. I am not allowed to touch you. I am not allowed to come unless given permission to.”

“And what is it I want from you?”

He didn’t answer.

She lightly slapped his bottom twice in quick succession, prompting an answer.

“Me,” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “You want me… _All of me._ ”

“There’s the smart boy that arouses me so,” she cooed, rubbing her open palm over his ass, relieving some of the sting from her slaps. “Hiding under all that swagger and scruff, trying so hard to convince me he’s something he’s not, but you forgot one very important detail, didn’t you?”

He gulped.

She leaned in closer to his ear and whispered, “I _know_ you.”

His quick sigh of breath sent a shiver of delight down her spine. She had him now. All she had to do was keep him. Judging by the way his body responded to her, and the way he’d quickly fallen into obedience, it wouldn’t be that difficult.

She was slipping under his surface, sliding through the cracks in his guard, and soon he’d be hers again. She was confident and surefooted, regaining her authority over him. Comfortable with this version of herself and recognizing it for who she was. It wasn’t just a persona, a role that she played anymore. This was who she was. This was a part of her newfound identity. This was a part _her._

She would get the truth out of Hans yet, she simply had to work him up to it, and she knew exactly how to do that.

“Puppy still seems to think he needs punishing, and so I’ll kindly oblige him. I am a fair Mistress.”

He whimpered and squirmed, eager for her to begin. _Perfect._

She let him carry on to the point of impatient frustration before she continued to strike him. Hit after hit, she fell back into the habit, staggering her tempo, varying it so he wouldn’t know when or how many were coming. She didn’t make him count. Numbers didn’t matter. Not when she needed this just as much as he did. Not when the amplified sounds of her slaps echoed around the dining hall, spurring her on.

Hans was always at his best when he wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do to him. How hard it got him. He had to be poker stiff, but she wouldn’t dare touch him to find out. In the past, she’d have groped him by now, but her pet had been cruel to her, and so she could return the sentiment.

She could be the harshest of mistresses in return. She could make him pay. Make him writhe, and make him beg. Make him cry out to the rafters for her.

_Only…_

She glanced back at the door leading to the parlour, wondering if he could be heard beyond the walls if she got him going loud enough or if they were far enough into the dining room that it didn’t matter.

She didn’t want to be careful with him, didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to tone down their reunion with the knowledge that the door was not locked and that it was Hans’s family beyond it, not guards under her command, sworn to mind their own business.

But _God,_ she wanted to hear him in reckless abandon. She wanted absolute power over him, wanted everyone to know. Wanted him to be hers again…but if someone walked in on them…

No, Anna would have to be careful. Prince Ulrik and Prince Georg were still just outside the door. Hopefully the steady din of conversation in the parlour masked what was happening in the dining room.

The master part of her wanted to be caught with him, wanted his family to know the truth of them, but at the same time, she did not want that. Not unless Hans was firmly back under her grip.

Hans was well aware of his family in the next room, he’d tried to tell her twice now and she’d cut him off. He was already nervous about getting caught, but it hadn’t stopped him from obeying, or from joining her once more in sordid behaviour. It meant that she was still worth more to him than his reputation. He was risking further disgrace for her.

He’d submit to her just as he’d always done in the past.

Because Hans wanted it.

Whatever pleasure she offered him, whatever stability she gave, he craved it beyond reason, and would do whatever it was she wanted of him to get it.

And they loved each other.

When it came down to it—to the foundation of their whole relationship, it was love. Fierce and unequivocal love. A passion for the ages. They had built that all by themselves. Crafted it through pain and pleasure, trust and surrender, neither knowing what the final outcome would be, only that it felt _right_ for them. They’d pushed the boundaries of society’s definition of love. There had been no meddling, no orchestrating of good matches and advantageous lives from outside forces. No lies, no duties, or false pretenses and settling. Only love.

Deep down, Hans still loved her. A love like theirs wasn’t so easily forgotten or tossed aside. Not in the span of four months. Anna knew now that whatever he had been doing to push her away or force her to act was something rooted in shame. Something he wasn’t able to say with words. Spun by hurt, masked in anger—Hans was in turmoil. She’d seen it enough in his physical appearance, and had felt it in the words he’d lashed at her.

He needed her help, and he needed to come home.

Anna knew what she had to do. It was time to get down to business and start claiming her pet properly. Force him to be vocal. Punish him. Pledge himself to her and only to her. Damned if his family heard him. Him knowing that risk would solidify her efforts.

A wicked idea crossed her mind as she surveyed the table, looking for anything she could use to further his arousal. She reached for one of the lit tapers, pulling it from its candelabra, careful not to spill the melted wax pooled at the top around the flame.

“My lady, what are you doing?” he asked, curious and a little unsteady, trying to shift beneath her and see what she had taken.

“I want to hear you scream,” she instructed before tipping the candle and dripping hot wax across his beautiful, red cheeks.

He didn’t scream for her, but instead hissed in a mixture of pleasure and pain, his body tensing at the initial sensation of heat, then quickly relaxing, melting into the table as though he were just as pliable as the wax now warming to a cool on his bottom, a satisfied moan playing on his lips.

Hans tipped his pelvis almost immediately into the table, arcing his back concave as he bent his ass up as high as it would go towards her. An invitation for more. Such a wanton, desperate display that a prince would never default to. It was perfect. Such submission, such subservient form.

She held the flame above him. “That wasn’t what I asked for, was it?”

“My lady,” he panicked, “we can’t—”

“I gave an order. Do it.” She dipped the candle onto him again, watching as the hot wax splashed against his skin, drying in mesmerising patterns as he moaned high, unable to help himself.

“Still not loud enough.” Anna gave him less time to recover before she dripped the wax again, this time over the top of his crease.

Hans gave a cry that pierced the rafters. “ _Ohhhhh!_ Oh _God_ , Anna!”

His body spread wide and out across the table with his hips beginning to ride the tablecloth in the slow rhythmic charade of fucking while his hands clutched desperately at nothing, needing something to hold and unable to get purchase of the tablecloth.

The primly set dishes and cutlery rattled noisily in his debauched wake. He was opening himself up to the pleasure she could grant him rather quickly—too quickly—causing her to pull back in alarm and blow out the candle, placing it down on the table.

“It’s _my lady,_ ” she corrected, before slapping him sharply.

He cried out generously, his pelvis thrusting. _Jesus_ , he was really starting to move, leading her to wonder how wet he’d gotten the tablecloth his family would soon be dining at and if it would be noticeable.

“How close are you?” she demanded.

“Close,” he sighed blissfully, swallowing gulps of air. “So close, give me the ribbon!”

“No.”

He gave a short, despairing whine. “I need it, my lady!”

“I said, no,” she retorted sternly. “I decide what it is you need. Not you.”

“ _Please!_ ”

“Follow the rules, puppy. You won’t come. You hear me?” His hips settled to a stop. “You won’t because those are the rules.” She ran her hand over the expanse of his back, petting him as if he were a great hound at her feet, calming him to a stay, his breathing going much slower. “And you want to impress me. You can’t help yourself. The thought of my disappointment terrifies you.”

“Yes,” he breathed, and he did sound terrified.

_Good._

She picked up the candlestick. “Now, let’s see,” she pondered aloud on purpose, already having a better idea come to mind. “Where should this go?”

He tipped his buttocks up towards her so fast that Anna broke into a laugh. He was bent over the table and standing on his damn tippy toes! Instantly she was reminded of how much fun Hans could be. How puppy-like he really was when he was aroused and how it could always bring out a smile in her. Her pet finally coming to the surface of his personality.

“God, look at you!” She giggled. “You’re gagging for it. You want to be fucked up the ass so badly with a candlestick, you can’t even help yourself. Right here, on the dining room table too! Is this really the way a Southern Isles prince behaves?”

“I—” Hans shook his head furiously. “I’m not a prince!”

Her grin widened and she leaned over him, making sure to press her body against his as she murmured quietly into his ear. “What are you then?”

“A puppy, my lady!” he gasped in embarrassing fervour. “Your pet!”

It was just short of _‘fuck me already, my lady.’_ and Anna chuckled.

“Are you?” she mused in a tease. “Let’s really put you to the test then. I already know your endurance regarding anal play, so let’s try something else instead. Something completely different.”

He suddenly looked apprehensive. She’d thrown him off, taking him out of his comfort zone. “Such as?”

“Roll over, puppy.”

He frowned in confusion. “My lady?”

“Show me your belly.”

The frown stayed, and Anna burst into another fit of giggles, his face going beet red. She couldn’t help it. He really did look like a puppy, his head tilted to the side, staring at her with a quizzical expression painted across his face. He had no idea what was going on, what she planned to do.

She could see he didn’t quite understand what she wanted, but her order had been clear. Even unsure, he still did as he was told, taking her literally, and rolled over. He rolled onto his back a bit more grandly than needed, as if he were a dog performing tricks for his master.

It couldn’t have been a more perfect outcome. In that one exaggerated act, Hans had submitted. Had engaged in something so utterly foolish, that an arrogant prince would never have. The resistance in him from earlier had faded, and he was closer to being her beloved pet again. She could feel the connection between them, prominent and forefront. Anna was succeeding in coaxing her feral pet home. Face to face, she could see that eager trust, that keen devotion sparkling faintly in his eyes.

His cock stood at attention, firm and proud, and every bit as delectable as Anna had remembered it to be. Aroused fully, so that even the foreskin had already drawn back, revealing that rosy hued helm begging for lavish attention. Her mouth watered at the sight. Hans had always been impressive, always been desirable in this area, and Anna had felt she had never fully appreciated his sculpted beauty until now. Until it had been taken away from her. Until she had been left with only her memory and a glass replica that paled in comparison.

Reunited with the cock of all her fantasies, the cock of her _lover_ , Anna intended to take full advantage. “You,” she said very slowly, meeting his eye, “look good enough to eat, and I am hungry.”

The look on his face was priceless. The realization of exactly what Anna intended to do to him had him stunned speechless. His lip quirked upwards, his eyes widened, and his breathing quickened. But he didn’t say a word, he merely stared at her in a mixture of awe and pure adoration.

“It’s been four months, and I am famished.” She reached for the closest dining chair and pulled it to the vacant head of the table where they were playing. Grabbing a napkin from the place setting across from her, she sat down in the chair and pulled it up in between Hans’s splayed legs. His delicious cock bobbing in front of her face like a delicacy.

She demurely spread the napkin out across her lap, while he bent his head forward and watched her with rapt attention. She took care to draw out the act and smoothed the corners, having the napkin lie flat before she jerked the chair forward so she was properly seated to dine.

“You are my dinner. Take that plate and slide it under your bum.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he gawked at her. “I’m sorry… _what?_ ”

“The dinner plate, Hans,” she replied, keeping her tone bored. “I want your ass on the fine china when I taste you.”

He swallowed hard. His eyes as wide as saucers, darted quickly from her to the parlour room door, but his arm shot over to the place setting she’d taken the napkin and chair from. He fumbled blindly for the dinner plate. Once he’d grabbed hold of it, he did as he was told, though rather hesitantly. His eyes drifting several times to the parlour room door.

Ass on the plate, he wriggled with a slight grimace. “It’s not very comfortable, my lady.”

She smiled pleasantly at him, remaining prim and demure. “Oh? Did you think this was for _your_ benefit?” She laughed lightly. “No, no, _this_ is for my pleasure. My indulgence. My reward. I don’t care if you are uncomfortable. _You_ are simply my dinner, and dinner stays silent and still. Understand?”

Still wide eyed, he nodded.

“Dinner,” she clarified, “does not have the privilege of spending in my mouth or on my face. That is an esteemed privilege that is earned by a pet, and, no, you are nowhere near that privilege. So, don’t even think about it.”

Again, he nodded.

“Should dinner decide to spend inappropriately, I will get up from the table and leave through that door,” she pointed to the parlour where most of his family congregated, “and dinner will have to follow as he is—trousers down, cock out—to apologize and keep me from leaving.”

He blew out a heavy breath. “I understand.”

“So Hans, do you want to be din—”

“—Yes!”

It took every ounce of her control not to reward him with a grin for his enthusiasm. She clicked her tongue instead. “So impatient.”

“Sorry, my lady,” he responded quickly, mollified.

“The rules are simple,” she reminded, gripping the base of his cock and readying herself. “Dinner is silent, dinner is still. Dinner does not come. I intend to enjoy this meal to its fullest.”

Anna had never performed oral before. It was not something Kristoff had ever requested of her, and she had never sought out doing it. She’d read about it though. It had been described in great detail in many of the novels that made up her saucy book collection. She’d only ever seen the act once, and that had been with Hans fellating the glass cock. She rather vividly recalled that event and how he had moved his mouth along the glass, mimicking how he preferred to be touched.

A pleasant warmth filled her, settling in her loins and intensifying the desire that had already been ignited there. Every nerve ending tingled with anticipation and she felt rather light headed.

If fellating Hans felt anything to him like what he had done to her with his tongue their last night in the dungeon…well, then she was going to have to monitor Hans’s body language very carefully to ensure he didn’t accidentally lose control and succumb to exquisite pleasure. She hoped her threat of the consequences was enough to keep him in check, but when overexcited, Hans could be unpredictable.

He’d learned to temper his desire, and he’d gotten very good at spending only when she allowed, but that had been before. Months ago. Everything was different now, and Hans was definitely excited and wound up. She could feel his cock pulsing within her grip, the tip beading in more precum, eagerly awaiting her attention.

If she took her time and went at her own pace, avoiding the head as much as she could, she’d be fine. The idea was to keep him aroused, but bring him back down from the edge he was already precariously dangling on, only to bring him back up there again and stop abruptly. Snatch the orgasm back at the last possible moment and take it from him, refuse to hand it out.

A fine punishment for an ill-behaved pet, and a fine opportunity to get to the heart of Hans and make him reveal what it was he was hiding.

“Are you ready?” she asked, inching her mouth to his manhood.

He stayed quiet, and nodded eagerly before resting his head back on the table, closing his eyes. Pet didn’t trust himself to watch. She’d use that against him in a bit. It was perfect fodder to push him with.

She decided that a lick would be the best place to start. Soft and slow, she drew her tongue along the underside of his shaft, starting at his base and following the seam, dragging her tongue gently to a stop just under the head. Hans’s entire body had gone stiff as a board, fighting against the simplest of touches. If a mere lick could elicit such a reaction…

She did it again. Just as soft, just as slow, only this time, she ended her trail with a tiny kiss on his glans. A chaste peck. He gave a small gasp, and his cock twitched in her hand for more attention.

Placing her lips on him again, she deepened her kisses, all along his shaft she continued, kissing him slow and deep as he stayed as still as possible for her, his tense muscles beginning to tremble from strain. It was definitely an effort for him to keep still and keep quiet, his clenched jaw and heavy breathing through his nose, delighting her while she continued to work her mouth over his cock at her own excruciatingly slow pace.

Anna found she enjoyed performing this act. There was something to be said about taking a lover in such a way. A fine line between romance and lechery. Love and lust. The two combining as one. There was also something undeniably attractive about taking him intimately into her mouth. Kissing and lapping at his privates, sucking and tasting, relishing the experience of something considered so lewd.

He had an arousing taste, subtle, salty, musky and unlike anything Anna could place for flavour, deciding only that she liked it. It was simply just sex and Hans, both of which she had missed dearly, stirring a craving in her for more. At this, she decided it was time for a bolder approach. She’d had enough delicate teasing and taunting. Her tongue having traveled the expanse of his loins slowly and thoroughly, from balls to tip and back again, in which Hans had done extremely well maintaining his control.

“I can’t believe I’m down here giving you the performance of a lifetime, and yet you haven’t bothered to watch,” she stated casually. “It’s rather rude, don’t you think?”

He breathed deeply, his eyebrows nearly stitched together as he caught her drift and worked up the nerve to open his eyes. He gave an audible, hard swallow followed by a long exhale.

“Did you know that you taste simply divine?” she asked, careful to throw in some praise while she stroked his length with her fist. “I’m enjoying you immensely, Hans.”

His jaw ground stiff at the sound of his name, his eyes scrunched shut tighter, a look of sheer agony on his face.

“Hans?” she continued, purposing using his name, flicking her tongue lightly over the tip of his swollen head. “Open your eyes and watch me, darling. Watch as I take you in my mouth.”

A strangled, heavy breath escaped his mouth almost bordering a cry, yet he managed to remain silent with large puffs of air blowing from his mouth as he tried to regain some composure. It took him a moment to do as she asked, but when he opened his eyes for her, he was in total despair.

There was doubt sitting there in his gaze, doubt of a man consumed by desire and unable to trust himself to keep obeying, to keep following the rules. It was risky to push him this far, knowing that she’d already set up some rather dire consequences if he failed. _But,_ she reminded herself, the punishment needed to match the crime. Pet had stolen authority, and had to learn that such a thing was unacceptable.

The sigh he gave when her mouth closed over his head was unreal. Possibly one of the most sensual noises Anna had ever heard. Her womanhood yearned for him, the walls of her cunt clenching in need, slick beyond reason. All for him. It was a wonder she could keep her mouth on him at all and not just pull up her skirts and straddle him instead. That’s what she wanted more than anything. To claim him as hers.

_In time,_ she repeated to herself. She’d claim him soon enough, but not quite yet.

She slid him further into her mouth, going slow, for he was a lot to handle. Her lips stretched thin as she tentatively explored taking him deeper. When she’d gotten a feel for his length and how far she could go without feeling like she was choking, she began to bob her head and suck him, moving her tongue in swirls as she went. Exploring his shape, teasing his coronal ridge probably more than she ought to. She couldn’t help it, it felt good on her tongue. A pleasant tactile sensation.

His breathing had gotten much louder and heavier than it had before. She glanced up at his face and found him still watching her, a glazed, blissed out look in his heavy-lidded eyes. His mouth had fallen open, slack, contrasting his furrowed brow. A marriage of tension and tranquility that made him look desirable in ways Anna had not seen before. It filled her with a deep sense of devotion.

She wanted to see that look on his face more often, she decided. It suited him. And pleased her that she’d been the one to invoke it.

She continued to suck him, increasing her suction and venturing furthering down his length as her comfort increased, becoming familiar with the way he responded to what, always aware of how Hans’s body grew tenser and more urgent to her touch. Teetering on the edge. He had to be close, and Anna didn’t want to risk him spending, as much as she wanted to keep going.

When she began to move her mouth off of him though, he whined—a wheezing sort of noise that wasn’t quite a sound so much as it was an expression of emotion. His hips shot upwards unexpectedly, catching her off guard as his cock slid back down her throat, her gag reflex almost kicking in. She pulled away from him immediately and gave him a sharp pinch on his inner thigh.

“Ouch!” he yelped in real pain, and she pinched him hard again.

“That’s two,” she said. “One for not staying still, and one for not staying silent.”

He bit his lip as he glared at her, a wild and furious sort of look in his eye that had replaced the blissed out one from moments ago. He was frustrated with her. She was taking too long with him and his patience for obedience was growing thin. She’d never left him this long on the edge of a climax, and their past experiences had her pet thinking that all punishments led to orgasms as rewards.

He’d learn otherwise.

“This is about my pleasure, my indulgence,” she repeated. “Not _yours._ ”

The look of silent outrage on his face for reminding him that she was taking an act typically meant for his pleasure and making it about her own had infuriated him. That she was using him as a prop to further her own whims and desires left him unruly. She’d have to be extra careful dancing this edge with him. She couldn’t trust how he’d react any more than he could trust himself. But it was necessary to push him further. Push him beyond his limits.

Giving him time to settle, she started over, right from the beginning. Back to teasing with the light dragging of her tongue up and down and around his shaft, making him squirm and thrash his head in aggravation, trying his best to settle his body to a still.

She gave him a pass for that since he was trying to arrest his involuntary movements, but his body had simply stopped listening to him. He twitched and shuddered with the soft, steady panting from his lips growing louder with each of her licks. He was quickly losing control of himself and desperately trying to regain it.

She took him without warning, engulfing him wholly. The mad pulse of his cock hot in her throat combined with the sharp intake of his breath nearly made her come on the spot. She had him. _He was hers. Finally hers._

She sucked him hard, vehemently working her lips and tongue as his panting increased, heightened to ravenous excitement. He did well, trying to keep still, trying to keep his ass firmly on the dinner plate. She heard the abrupt, violent clanking and clattering of dishes and caught from the corner of her eye that he’d managed to finally grip the tablecloth in his fists and had yanked it in an effort to hold on and stave off his climax.

His panting had evolved to an elevated rasp of laboured _‘Hahs’_ and _‘Ahhhs’_ as she continued to work his prick to ecstasy. Then his back arched and body snapped taut as his cock lurched in her mouth—

—And she let go of him, stopping everything to a grinding halt, essentially spitting his cock out of her mouth. The sound he made was something she could only describe as a silent howl of rage, despair and disappointment.

Though she had little time to feel any satisfaction for it. His hand had moved, like a viper striking, and was on the back of her head so fast, she hadn’t time to react. Before she could say a single word, he fisted a handful of her hair and held her head tightly in place, keeping her from pulling away from him any further.

For a moment, she was startled, maybe even a little afraid. Hans had never touched her with any real force before, and never without her permission first, and now she could feel the physical strength he’d subdued in their plays. She’d known going in that there was a chance he might not be able to fully follow her commands, and to test him like this while unleashed, after months apart, had been a risk, but one she had been willing to take.

She remained calm. Stoic. She was his master, and she was in control here.

He was breathing so hard, and his body was wound up so tight, an indication that he was unable to calm himself. She’d trapped him in a state of arousal, and he couldn’t climb back down. The arm that held her trembled with an adrenaline rush.

_He’s just like a puppy that’s gotten overexcited and nipped a hand._

“Hans,” she said firmly but calmly, meeting his eye. “You haven’t been given permission to touch. _Let go._ ”

She felt his fingers flex against the back of her head. The desire to obey battling with his desire to come. They locked eyes for what seemed like ages, his, wild and frenzied, hers, serene and commanding. She refused to waver, refused to look away before he did. She would compel him to submit to her authority.

Hans blinked first, his grip loosening on her hair and he let go, coming back to himself, a look of shame flashing across his face. He collapsed his arm onto the table, still breathing heavy but less intense.

“Sorry, my lady,” he mumbled, casting his eyes downward and looking a bit bewildered. He bit his lip as though he had more to say, but didn’t speak further.

“You just got overexcited,” she supplied evenly, ending the incident now that she had regained control. “You’re not quite tame off leash yet, but it was a good start. You performed well, for the most part.”

His eyes flickered back to hers, lapping up the bit of praise she’d rewarded.

“Still, I can’t trust you not to do it again, so I’ll need to restrain you—” She looked around, trying to find something she could bind his wrists with. Her eyes stopping on his cravat. “Ah! Here we go—” She reached for his cravat and he jerked away from her and out of her reach as though she were a flame and he’d been burned.

“No!” he blurted, and Anna stared at him in shock. He immediately looked horrified, so Anna simply waited. Watched as he quickly composed himself. “I…” He fumbled. Then there was a bit of a shift in his personality, a quick lick of his lips and he gave her a very subdued and innocent smile. “I meant, _allow me, my lady._ ” And his hands moved slowly to untie his cravat. Completely compliant, completely submissive.

Anna simply watched him with faux disinterest, unsure if he thought she’d bought his sudden act of submission. She tried to make it look as though she had, but she never took her eyes from his neck, watching him meticulously as he was being too careful untying the length of silk from his throat.

Then she saw it. In between the movements of his cautious fingers, a hint of black leather here, and flash of gold metal there.

His collar.

Hans still had his collar.

And he was even wearing it.

Her chest tightened. He hadn’t gotten rid of it like he’d said.

It begged the question as to why he would hide such a thing from her. And go to such lengths to do so.

She spoke as steady as she could. “That doesn’t look like the bottom of the ocean to me.”

His hands froze at his neck and he looked up at her.

Guilty.


	33. Chapter 33

Hans hadn’t meant to lie.

Not really, no. It was more instinct than anything that had taken over in that moment. His mind’s only thought to keep Anna as long as he could before the inevitable took place. Before he’d have to come clean and ultimately give her up.

“Oh? I guess I must have come across it again, and _forgot._ ” It was pathetic. Probably his feeblest attempt ever at lying.

She raised an eyebrow, but her eyes never left his damn throat. “Forgot enough that you put it back on?”

“Obviously.”

She rose quickly in anger, her chair scraping across the polished marble floor as she stood up. “You never threw it away to begin with. Don’t lie to me!”

There was a note of real pain there, and he did his best to ignore it. Anna upset was a good thing. He needed her anger more than anything. For as much as he wanted to be her good little pet, he didn’t deserve that title. This, he decided, was the only way to stave off the beginning of the end. The only way to make things feel right. To keep her just a little while longer.

It was selfish and wrong, and he despised himself for it, but it was giving him that feeling he’d been craving. That perfect blend of torture he couldn’t find anywhere else. Couldn’t replicate to feel like it did when it was with Anna. Only Anna could make it delicious agony. Make it real. Make him feel something inside.

“What does it matter that I still have it? Doesn’t that make you happy?” he retorted back, sitting up to pull the dinner plate out from under him and shoving it aside. With the cat out of the bag, he pulled his cravat from his neck with a sharp tug and let it fall to the table.

She was right when she’d guessed he’d never thrown away his collar to begin with. He was going to. He really was. He’d stood there that day on the docks, completely resolved to toss the damn thing into the sea and be done with her, but he hadn’t been able to do it. It was his only physical memory of her and their time together. He’d stuffed it angrily into his waistcoat pocket instead, and hurried to catch up to his brothers.

Royally screwing up everything that had ever made him happy in the process, because he’d gone down a path that day that he couldn’t come back from. Mistakes he’d been trying desperately to atone for ever since. Things that had tainted everything.

And that was before Anna had even shown up.

She wasn’t supposed to be here on the Southern Isles. He’d finally accepted that she wasn’t coming a month ago. He’d _believed_ that. He’d believed it so earnestly that he’d done everything in his power to wipe her from his memory, banish her from his mind, to forever hate her and everything she had done to him.

_You didn’t really though, did you?_

Inwardly, he winced. He was terrible at lying to himself these days. Something he’d been able to do quite easily in the past. Something he’d been able to do up until Anna. What he really needed right now was another good lie, if only for his own selfish reasons.

For as long as Hans could remember, he’d spent his life searching for something he was good at. Something that came naturally to him. He’d found it with Anna. He was good at being her pet. Really good. He had excelled at it and it had become a great source of pride for him. He made a damn good submissive, and found it not only rewarding, but worthwhile. He had loved it and had loved who he was while doing it. He had devoted his time to being the best pet possible for her.

And then he’d gone and wrecked it all.

Spoiled everything.

To have Anna show up here now was devastating for him. A huge blow to his self esteem and pride, because all this time, he had thought that it was Anna who had failed him. Not the other way around _. No._ Anna had come through. It was _he_ who had failed. And not only failed, but failed _her._ He didn’t deserve to be in her presence, let alone under her command again, but he couldn’t help it.

_Just one last time._

His immediate instinct on seeing her again had been to run to her. Rush to her side, drop to his knees and pledge his very life and soul to her forever, right there in front of the most condescending people he knew. He had wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her tight, never letting her go, because Anna was here and she had come for him.

But that could never happen. Not now.

He’d had no choice but to close himself off. He couldn’t even look at her, his heart feeling as though it was being ripped apart piece by piece as he stood there forcing himself not to move, not to look, not to care. He’d even pretended to buy her excuse for being there in hopes of dulling the pain.

_You’re the one to blame._

It was so much worse knowing she had come for him. The moment she’d opened her mouth and blathered on idiotically about trade and such nonsense, he knew why she was really here. It was for him. Him, and him alone, and he couldn’t bear it. He’d had to fix his eyes up on the ceiling for fear that if he didn’t, the tears would fall right then and there in front of everyone.

He’d had to leave as quickly as possible before he really broke down, barely making it into the dining room before grief flooded him and pulled him under.

He’d stopped waiting for her a month ago. Had gone to hell in that month, only to learn that had he waited a measly month longer, he could have had Anna back again. They could have picked up right where they had left off and everything would have been perfect.

It was the cruelest joke his life had played on him.

Because _oh, this past month…_

He shuddered, not wanting to recall any of it.

Not wanting to have to tell her, but knowing he’d eventually have to.

He’d known that the moment Anna had refused to leave him, she’d find out. Of course, he knew it was bound to happen. Of course, he knew that if he went down this path, she’d find out the truth of him sooner or later. Anna had a way of doing that. Whether it was from his own inability to resist her temptation, or whether it was from Anna simply being _Anna_ , or a combination of both those things. Regardless of the how though, he’d known from the moment she had called his bluff and stayed that this was his end.

His one last hurrah before it was all over.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want her to find out. In fact, he had been hoping against hope that she would. The sickest of punishments. The cruelest of fates. It was no less than what he deserved, and he knew that. Which was why he needed her to know, and yet, when the very idea of saying the words out loud to her surfaced, he’d been a coward and gone mute where it mattered.

The truth of it painfully simple. He’d proven himself a lousy pet.

But rather than admit it, take the blame and tell the truth, he’d done the exact opposite. He’d been completely awful instead. He didn’t know how to get from her what he wanted without hurting her to get it. And so, he had—that being the easier course of action, but now it made him loathsome. He hated himself for it, almost as much as he hated himself for everything else.

He’d gotten his one last time with her, and it was time to pay the piper his dues.

_Except…_

Even now, after so much time apart, she could still captivate him, make him yearn for her. Only her. Not that it was hard. He’d ached for her for months. His thoughts only ever of Anna, even when he hadn’t wanted them to be. And that was the truth.

Only he would ever be _this_ unlucky, and all by his own hand. Anna had finally arrived—and it was too late. Hans had already gone ahead and ruined everything. Hadn’t waited. Wasn’t patient.

Wasn’t _faithful_.

How typical of him to jump the gun and wreck it all, that’s what he was best at, after all. Destroying any chance of happiness he could possibly have was the one thing Hans could seem to do without fail. The one thing he was remarkably good at. Left to his own devices, Hans was a pitiful, destructive force.

It didn’t matter that she was here now. She’d leave once she knew just how despicable he was. But that hadn’t stopped him from succumbing to her had it?

_No._

He was furious and confused and desperate and hurt, guilty and afraid, and all of it jumbled together, twisting his insides into impossible knots. He deserved every damn second of it. At least he had sense enough to know that. Every bit of torment her sudden presence had caused him had been well earned in her absence.

But even knowing he was unworthy of her, undeserving and vile, he still couldn’t resist her brand of punishment. Couldn’t resist _her._

He’d earned the worst from her, and thought that just maybe if it physically hurt enough, he could atone. Just maybe if she hated him enough, things could feel right. He could shed some guilt. Slip it off as though he were a serpent outgrowing his skin.

Even if it was only for one last time. Even if she despised him and left him in the end. Which ultimately, she would. Even he wasn’t that stupid to be the optimist.

_It’s nothing less than what you deserve._

He couldn’t help but feel angry with her too, slough some, if not all, the blame onto her. Hide from the responsibility of his own actions and make her hurt for making him hurt instead. Blame her for making him do the unthinkable when she hadn’t come immediately for him. Her fault he’d ever doubted her in the first place. Her fault he’d been so easily swayed to think she wasn’t coming for him. That they had been a lie.

It didn’t stick as much as he tried to make it stick. He knew it wasn’t her fault. It was just…well…he hated that it was _his._ That he was the one to blame.

The one good thing in his life, and he had broken it…a second time.

He wanted nothing more than to be Anna’s beloved pet again. A position he’d lost for good. But, _ohhhhh,_ how it felt to be back underneath her. To grovel and squirm. To hear her voice and how she’d speak to him with _that_ tone. That fucking tone that said she _owned_ him. It was almost too much for him, having been without it for months. He’d fallen back into it instantly. Wanting it. Needing it. Only this time knowing it had to really fucking hurt.

He knew what he needed to do. He just didn’t _want_ to. He wanted to stay here in this moment with her, suspended in the way it used to be between them. The way they had been before everything had gone wrong.

_Before you fucked up._

He hated that she was going to find his truths. Hated that everything was going to come to an end because he’d been stupid. Because he hadn’t waited like he said he would. Because he had been the one to go off and seek comfort from anywhere that would give it. Because he had been with some—

“And look at this!” she nearly shrieked, slapping his hands out of the way and grabbing at the collar’s buckle before he could snatch her wrist. “You’ve been wearing it too tight! How long have you had it on like this?”

“I took it off once,” he supplied vaguely, and her fury rose.

“It’s not meant to be worn all the time! You know that! You need breaks, you need to be taking it off, you can’t wear it this tight to begin with without hurting yourself! You—” Her voice broke when she met his eyes. When she found out one of his truths from just a look. Her outrage falling away all because of something she’d found in his eyes. He held his breath as her fingers slipped from the collar to rest on his clavicles. “You did it on purpose. You…you _wanted_ it to hurt.”

He couldn’t answer her.

He’d been a fool to think she wouldn’t see through him immediately. Anna was too observant, too familiar with him. And yet, she still saw her pet when she looked at him. He had to look away. He couldn’t sit here with his trousers down _and_ meet her eye. He couldn’t bear that look of sorrow displayed on her face. That immediate guilt that made her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

He hated instantly that he had ever wanted her to take the blame, had even dared to think it, because when faced with her actually doing that…he couldn’t handle it. It tore him asunder. He could see it there on her face, plain as day. Anna was taking the blame. She thought this was her fault. Her doing.

And he couldn’t have that. He couldn’t. But the words wouldn’t follow.

“I’m taking this off,” she said with a defiant sniff. Her voice so quiet he had to close his eyes, otherwise he might cry himself.

He felt the release of the buckle and her fingers brush his neck. Delicate, a whisper of a touch that only made him want more of her. He heard the small horrified gasp when she saw his bare throat. He already knew that the angry, red flesh rubbed raw was what had caused such a sound. Just as he knew she was now taking the blame for that too.

And he hated it. Hated that he had done such a thing to her. He’d been thoughtless, never once asking himself how Anna would feel if she ever saw, though he knew enough to try and hide it from her.

“Why would you do this?” she whispered hoarsely as though her voice would no longer work. As though she was doing everything in her power not to break down and cry.

_And it’s your fault. Your fault. You are a bastard._

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, hoping to block her out. His bottom lip quivered. He’d hurt her, _he’d hurt her_ , and it was not at all in the way he’d planned. He felt sick.

_You need this._

“Hans,” she said, trying to be stern, but she wavered and her voice broke. “Answer me.”

He had to look at her then. His entire jaw trembling as he tried to hold back his own emotions. His own sorrow and guilt. The truth. But it wouldn’t keep. Nothing would ever keep with her looking at him like that. Devastated. Hurt.

“I was supposed to wait,” he finally admitted, “and I didn’t.”

It was all he could say in that moment.

She didn’t say anything, but he watched her as she worked his words out for herself. She drew in a long, deep breath before exhaling just as slowly. The pain his admission caused had displayed on her face so obviously that he had to look away again. He stared numbly at his bare legs, knowing that he had just triggered the end.

That as much as he wanted to keep her, he never could. Not now. Not ever.

“Are you saying there’s someone else?”

He shook his head no, still unable to look at her. Did it matter it had only been once? That he’d been drunk and angry, and the whole time thinking only of the damn collar in his waistcoat pocket on the bedside floor, tossed there like trash? How he hadn’t wanted to in the first place, but it was the quickest way to get over her? That he couldn’t remember the woman’s name or what she even looked like? How he’d hated the way her perfume had stung his nostrils, thick and cloying in his throat, making him want to vomit each time she brought her face near his? How she was everything that Anna wasn’t and would never be? How he’d left before finishing as though that would somehow soften the blow of how much of a mongrel he’d become the very day he’d stopped waiting?

“Tell me.”

He didn’t want to. _God,_ he didn’t want to do this, and yet not a single lie came forward, because he knew this needed to hurt. Knew he had earned this punishment, and no amount of pain could atone for it, but at least she’d give him something. Anna would have to give him something utterly soul crushing for this.

“At first,” he began quietly, still staring at his lap, “I waited. Every day, I waited for you to come…and then, every day you didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, and he believed her. How could he have ever lost faith in _her?_ How could he, her most loyal and beloved pet, have done this to her?

“I stopped waiting a month ago.” It sounded so stupid saying it out loud. _A month._ If only he’d waited one month longer… “Ulrik and Georg—my brothers—took me out drinking…” He sighed, his head collapsing into his hands. “I just wanted to forget, and I was so angry…and I hated you. _God,_ I _hated_ you!”

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth and part of him died. It felt so awful, and yet so good to finally say it.

He bit his lip, pausing. “It was once. She wasn’t anything like you, and I didn’t even care at that point. I just needed to make everything go away, but it wouldn’t. No matter how hard I tried. I didn’t finish…I just…left. Got dressed and left. I needed it all to stop and it wouldn’t. I hated everything. Even myself afterwards.”

“And that’s when you put your collar back on.”

He nodded. Of course, Anna would have figured that out without him needing to say it.

Her face softened in sympathy, and he couldn’t have that. His skin prickled uneasily. That was not how she was supposed to react to such news. Such an awful admission of guilt. _No._ He was not allowed sympathy, especially hers. He had wronged her in every way imaginable, and it was not her sympathy he needed nor wanted. It wasn’t right. He had no right to it. He never had.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that.” And he hated how his voice shook. Hated how defensive it made him feel. Hated that her first instincts were compassion and not contempt.

“Hans—”

“Did you not hear me? I said I didn’t wait for you! I thought you weren’t coming, and _I didn’t wait._ I stopped believing in you, Anna. In us. A month ago, I gave up. I disobeyed you, and _I failed._ Whatever you may think of me, I am _not_ your pet.”

He stared back at her, defiant, angry, waiting for her to be the same, needing desperately for her to be the same, and nearly screaming at her when she continued to stay calm. _Understanding._

“You were taken from me. By force. Neither of us saw that happening. You never failed me; you were surviving without me the only way you knew how. How were you to know what was happening back in Arendelle? She lied to me. She kept you from me for longer than she ever should have been able to, and that was _my_ fault.”

“I wasn’t loyal. I disobeyed. I should have been waiting longer, I should have—”

“—You keep saying you disobeyed, and you failed,” she began, her voice still as soft, still as gentle and he hated that she was still not visibly upset with him. Not furious, not even angry or slightly miffed. His admission not altering her mood at all. “but you couldn’t have, because I never gave you an order to wait, did I?”

“I strayed!” he snarled at her fiercely. Flinging the words with as much force as he could so that they’d sting and scald. _Make_ her angry. _Make_ her hate him. “I went to a whore! I have been drinking excessively, I’ve been gambling—partaking in the worst vices, all while hating your very name while doing it for a whole goddamned month!”

Her expression didn’t change as she reached out for him. “I can tell that our time apart has been exceptionally hard on you—”

Hans jerked out of her reach. “—Hard on me?” He could feel himself begin to lose way to hysterics. To laughing or crying uncontrollably at any given minute because Anna was not engaging him in this fight. He felt wild and untethered with her not giving him what he _needed_. Anchoring him. She was failing him right now, and why couldn’t she see that? How could she not see that he had earned her contempt? Her disgust and disappointment? “I _hated_ you!”

“And yet you still kept your collar on. Too tight, I might add.”

“I needed to be punished.”

“I can see that.”

“No, you don’t!” he spat, her words snapping something loose and unleashing his full fury. “If you could see that, you’d be doing it right now! You’d be hating me; you’d be hurting me! You’d be punishing me and you’re not! _You’re not!_ You keep looking at me like it’s not my fault, like I didn’t do anything wrong, and I did!”

“Hans—” she tried again, and her calm demeanor only enraged him further. She wasn’t playing fair; she wasn’t engaging him the way he needed it. The way he knew it had to be. How could he begin to make up for everything, if she wouldn’t let him? She’d distanced herself with this cloak of kindness and he couldn’t seem to get her to let go of it or get past it.

“You _have_ to hurt me!”

“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t.”

“You do,” he insisted, his insides in a panic. He needed this. He needed this so badly and she wasn’t giving it. Anna always gave him what he needed. Always. “I need you to hate me! Why can’t you see that? _I need this to hurt!_ ”

“I think,” she answered him steadily, “that you’re already hurt enough.”

_No._

He felt dizzy, the table itself seemed to sway beneath him.

No. She had it all wrong. He wasn’t hurt nearly enough. He hadn’t even begun to atone for any of this. If she wouldn’t give him what he needed then he’d make her, and by God, he could do it. She would hate him soon enough, and that would be that. He’d pay for this past month…for everything, even if it killed him. Even if she hated him forever for it.

“You bitch!” he screamed, hating the word, repulsed by it and everything in him that led up to saying it, that he’d stoop so low, that she’d backed him into this corner and left him no choice but to attack her. “You fucking know I need this!”

She’d have to hit him now. She’d raise her hand and she’d slap him hard across the face for such a slur. Such disobedience. He braced himself for her retaliation. For that sweet, blessed redemption.

But his worst had no impact on her. She didn’t even flinch at such a vile word directed at her. The compassion and kindness, the sympathy, the ache in her eyes for him never left. Didn’t falter.

“It’s okay, Hans.”

_No._

_No, no, no, no._

He was awful. He was bad.

_Nothing_ was okay, and what the hell was wrong with her that she couldn’t see that? Where was his mistress? Where was his deserved pain? His punishment for all his crimes? He needed to atone, needed to make this right and _why_ wasn’t she letting him make this right?

_Because she forgives you._

He swallowed hard, trying to block off that train of thought. Trying to shut it down, uproot it before it took hold. Anna could not forgive him for this, for anything! He didn’t need forgiveness, he needed pain. He needed it to _hurt_. The panic that had welled up inside turned swiftly to hysteria, and instinct told him to run. To end it.

Because Anna wasn’t backing down, and the pain of that truth was almost as unbearable as the fear he felt deep within his bones that this really was the end of them. She was cutting him off, taking away his outlet, and they were becoming something else before he was ready for them to be and change.

And it was terrifying.

_What happens when she makes you face everything? When all the boundaries have been tested?_

When he’d fulfilled his end of the bargain and paid for his crimes?

…It would be over.

_Sextant._

_Say it!_

_Say._

_It._

_Sextant!_

“Don’t you dare do this to me!” The words tumbled out past his lips and there was fear on every syllable. He’d felt as though he was standing on the edge of a cliff with everything burning around him, the only option left was to leap. _And he didn’t want to._ He wanted to stay here with his feet planted on the ground. He wasn’t ready for this and she couldn’t make him. “Don’t you dare just act like everything is okay and that you forgive me! You can’t do that. It isn’t fair and you know it! You have to hate me! You have to! I need it to hurt! I need you to—”

Pleading, he met her eyes and too late he choked back a sob, but the damage had already been done. She didn’t hate him. The truth as clear as the blue in her eyes that told him. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, escaping, and he turned his head immediately in humiliation to hide his weakness and his shame.

Raising his arm to shield his face from her, she stopped him. Her hand rested gently around his wrist, tugging his hand back from his face. He heaved a shuddering breath, his resolve cracking.

“I believe,” she murmured gently, “that those belong to me. You are not to hide them.”

Somehow her handkerchief was at his face gently dabbing under his eyes, wiping his tears away which only made more follow in their stead. She was too patient. Too calm. Too understanding. Too absolute. Too lovely. Every bit both Anna and his Master. No longer any distinction between the two.

“Deep down you know you don’t want what you’re asking of me. I know you, Hans. You only want my hatred because you’re afraid you don’t deserve my love. But you do deserve it, and I love you.”

He broke then. The last vestige of fight in him gone, defeat the name of the game, surrender. That she could know his heart better than himself and understand him obliterated any further resistance. She knew truly what it was he needed and wanted and desired more than words could express. Anna could see him. Underneath all his sins, all his faults, all his mistakes.

Anna had found him, and she hadn’t dared let go.

He felt weak and shaky, like he’d survived a storm at sea and had made it home to land. Safe and sound. On the shore, almost home. _Safe._ God, it’d been months since he’d felt that.

Anna was here and he was finally safe.

_Safe._

The flood gates came crashing open in all their glory, and he cried. Let himself this time, fully and completely. Sobbed uncontrollably, the whole of his body succumbing to the stress he’d been under since he’d been taken from her…no, since he’d fallen in love with her.

And _oh God_ , he loved her. He loved her with everything he had in him. He just wanted _her_. It had always just been her.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. _For everything._ “I’m so sor—” His breath hitched and gave way to more shuddering breaths, more tears, more uncontrolled sobs.

She threw her arms around him. Enveloping him fiercely with her whole body, hugging him to her with the unspoken promise that she’d never let him go. That this, she could handle. She would bear the scars from it, yes, but she had accepted that. It was what he had needed at this time, and so she had given it.

_You are mine, and I’m going to take care of you._

She held him close and quiet, strong and sound, her breathing peaceful and steady, her entire being resolute, until his sobs subsided and his tears ran dry. Until he was able to match her breaths, the storm he had raged finally coming to a calm. To an end.

When she let him go, he almost clutched her back to him, almost cried out for her to stay, but Anna wasn’t going anywhere. He realized now that she never would. He was that important to her. That special.

Instead, she lightly shoved him backwards, back onto the table. He scooted further up onto the tabletop, and lay down. She followed, climbing atop him, and straddled his hips. He relished the way her thighs held him tight as she gazed down at him, her face serene and serious.

“There now,” she whispered. “That’s my sweet pet.”

And he was. He was, and would always be. Her. Pet.

Everything was different and frightening between them, but one thing had remained the same.

Pet.

The smile her words caused forced its way out, a laugh following, though it was a desperate, restrained thing. It managed to break the tension, and shift the mood. Her hand reached out and caressed his face. He nuzzled against her palm until her fingers rested on his jaw, tipping his face upwards so he looked her in the eye.

“Hans,” she started, and he loved the sound of his name on her lips like that, loved that through it all she had called him by his name. “I came all this way to claim you. What I need from you most right now is your complete honesty, because I am going to take you home with me, right here, right now, right on this very table. So, if that is not what you truly want, then you need to say the word that ends it now.”

He could have died a happy man then. Her sunlight chasing away his clouds. She still wanted him. Still loved him, even after all he’d put her through. His lip trembled, and he feared he’d start sobbing again. He’d never felt this open or this alive. This cherished. He was Anna’s, and Anna was his. His alone.

She had come here for him because he was worth it to her. He was worth her abandoning the only life she had ever known. Worth the disgrace that would forever mar her reputation.

And he was worthy of her. He had to be, otherwise she never would have gone to such lengths for him.

Warmth radiated throughout his entire being. Under her was exactly where he belonged, and always would.

He raised his arms slowly above his head, crossing his wrists and keeping them together as though she had bound him. A symbolic gesture of submission. “Take me,” his voice shook, and he sounded far feebler than he felt in that moment. “Please, my lady, take me home.”

She nodded, love shining true in her eyes as she smiled down at him. “Here, boy.”

God strike him down if she wasn’t the most beautiful creature he would ever lay eyes on. His heart swelled for her…among other things in his anatomy. She giggled at that, shuffling her skirts up to bunch around her hips, exposing to him her pristine white drawers.

“Always so eager,” she teased, her hand grazing his erect length softly before taking him in her fist and guiding him towards the opened slit of her drawers.

He had imagined this moment a thousand times over, his mind conjuring up all the ways such an act could be done. Never had he envisioned that the deed would finally take place in his ancestral home and on his parents’ dining room table while they had snuck away from his family congregating in the next room over.

Scandal just a doorway away, and he could not have cared less. He loved Anna and wanted everyone to know. He welcomed the idea of being caught by his brothers, unflappable proof that he was the object of Anna’s desire, and that she had come here for him.

To have him completely in every sense of the word.

There was still so much uncertainty, so much of their future left unknown, but with Anna poised above him, committed to them, he felt as though nothing in the world could stand in their way as long as they were together. The future didn’t seem so scary, or bleak. A rundown manor surrounded by fields of sunflowers sounded downright tempting if Anna was there by his side.

He had love, and it was not something he had come by easily, nor would it be something he’d ever let go of so easily again.

“My lady,” he pleaded softly, unable to wait any longer for her. “Please, you’re killing me.”

She pressed a finger to his lips to shush him and he fought the urge to suckle her finger. “I’ve waited too long for this not to be perfect.”

It was his turn to smile. Didn’t she see? It was already perfect, because it was going to be with her. They were going home. Together.

Nothing could be more perfect.

Her head tilted to the side, looking quizzically at him. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Because I know something you don’t, my lady.”

“And what’s that?”

“This is already perfect.”

She returned his smile, gripping the base of his cock tighter and guiding him home. She gasped—a light, sensual sound as she slowly impaled herself on his cock, her slick heat sheathing him in the most exquisite bliss. Home had never felt better, his desire mounting as Anna worked her way down his shaft, taking him completely before she began to move her hips slowly, grinding her pelvis against his, her soft moans and sighs quickly filling the room.

“Oh, pet,” she groaned, her face flushed with desire. “You’re absolutely divine. A perfect fit.”

He could say likewise, or utter something else witting, except his voice seemed to have stopped working, alongside his brain with pleasure filling him as he filled her. There was only room for his own harried gasps and moans, because Anna rode him like a determined goddess, claimed him completely, forever making him hers.

He welcomed the feeling, embraced simply letting go of everything to Anna, allowing her to take control and make him feel whatever it was she wanted him to. His pleasure belonged to her.

And he had always liked it best that way.

All he had to do was let Anna have him.

Except this time, he found he struggled with keeping his wrists together and above his head. This time, he had to concentrate on being passive, on allowing Anna to take him…and he knew something between them had changed. As much as he loved being under her grip, a sharp yearning arose in him, and he remembered their last night in the dungeon, when he’d been allowed to touch her, to grant her pleasure, to make her feel the way she made him feel.

He wanted that again. Wanted to give back. Wanted to be her equal, but at the same time, desperately longing to forever be her pet and let her have him.

Something unspoken had occurred when Anna had forced him to confront his crimes, his past, to accept her forgiveness, and even now in the midst of making love, he felt the tremors of that fallout and wondered where it would lead.

And yet, somehow, it only made everything with her that much more sublime. It only made Anna that much more incredible. That much more desirable.

She seemed to sense his struggle, because she leaned forward, reaching above his head to clamp one slender hand over his wrists and hold him in place while she increased her tempo.

“Move with me, darling,” she rasped. “Buck your hips and meet me. Hard.”

He could only nod feverishly, her slight change in position sparking a desire that went unmatched, her body meeting his in all the right places, driving his love and lust until he couldn’t tell which was which. Nothing existed to him but Anna, and the way she moved, the pleasure she gave increasing with the rise and fall of her body crashing into his until her back arched, and she cried out to the rafters in ecstasy, reaching perfection.

It was too much to take in, her walls clenching and quivering around his cock as he continued to grind his pelvis up against hers, pushing as deep as he could go, her cries sublime and all for him, finally tipping him over the edge to join her as his own orgasm unleashed, leaving him a quaking mess in the aftermath.

Finally coming home.

She collapsed on top of him, breathless and grinning, her lips seeking out his as though she’d go crazy if she didn’t kiss him right now. He met her mouth roughly, spiking his tongue to hers, just as hungry, just as frenzied.

 Everything perfect.

That is until the door that led to the parlour was thrown open with Vilhelm barreling into the room, Ulrik and Georg hot on his heels trying to make a grab for him and failing. His eldest brother skidded to a halt, took one look at Hans, pants down, Anna on top of him, and registered the scene before him immediately. Vilhelm’s face went bright red in embarrassment and then dark purple in outrage.

“For God’s sake, Hans!” his brother bellowed, practically sputtering in shock. “Have you completely lost your damn mind! What the hell is going on here?”

Anna was still staring at him, stifling a giggle, and it gave him a giddy sense of courage, something he would not normally have had in such a situation. Hans couldn’t help but grin boldly at her.

He had the perfect answer for his brother, all cheek and pure rake, and was going to say exactly what was going on—except the arrival of two more family members in the doorway stopped him cold from answering and wiped the grin clean off his face.

“That’s what we’d like to know.”

If ever there were two people Hans never wanted to have catch him in flagrante, it was his parents.


End file.
